


In Sick As Every Dog and In Health

by fisherford40



Category: Star Wars RPF
Genre: F/M, RPF, carrison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6689188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fisherford40/pseuds/fisherford40
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carrie comes down with a nasty case of pneumonia and Harrison takes care of her. Mature content in chapter 7 only. Edited end of Chapter 2 on 1/27/18.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Incompetent Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> The credit for the entire plot idea goes to my friend Cori and I also have to thank her for her exceptional beta work as always. This fic is based off of Carrie tweeting that she was “sick as every dog but Gary” a few weeks back. It is completely dramatized and not true at all, just the musings of my mind and Cori’s. As always, I mean no disrespect toward Carrie, Harrison, or Calista.

Nothing could have prepared the young doctor for what he was going to face that day when he arrived for his shift at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was used to the type of people that came into the hospital for treatment, or so he thought, as it was the main Hollywood hospital. After the first couple months of working there, he had learned to not let the celebrity status of his patients get to him anymore. To him they were just regular people who needed health care. So when Carrie Fisher was admitted and assigned to him, he had quickly been able to distance himself from his memory of her as the iconic Princess Leia and think of her as just another woman needing his medical expertise. 

Medical expertise is certainly what he had. Or at least, he thought so. He had gone to Stanford for medical school, after all. Just because he’d scraped by with the minimum passing grades in his classes, barely adequate scores on his exams, an almost concerning evaluation at the close of his residency, and with a generous donation from his own doctor father, didn’t mean he wasn’t a competent physician. He knew what he was doing, even if he hadn’t been officially practicing for all that long. 

However, what the young doctor wasn’t prepared for was how sick his patient really was, and what the end result of that would be. Ms. Fisher had been admitted a few hours ago of her own free will. But now, she was starting to act in what some people might consider an obnoxious manner. She had already tried to get up and leave more than once, which was a difficult task for multiple reasons. For one, they had stuck an IV in her arm to give her fluids and she had been dangerously close to pulling it out when she had tried to leave. Secondly, she couldn’t stop coughing. It sounded like she was hacking up a lung. Still, she had tried to protest in between her coughs, but it was hard to even make out what she was trying to say. The doctor was pretty sure it was something along the lines of “I can’t be here” and “I have to leave right now,” but that was not an option he felt comfortable with. She was extremely sick and needed medical attention.

She was sick enough that when she had arrived, she had immediately been taken for a chest x-ray because of her coughing and chest pain. When the results had come back hours and several attempts by his patient to leave later, and the doctor had come to present them to Ms. Fisher. But before he had even been able to tell her what was wrong, she had tried to leave her bed again, once more implying that she needed to leave immediately. He had informed her that if she were to do so, it would be against his medical opinion. As she had another coughing fit, he managed to tell her that she had pneumonia and he highly recommended that she stay in the hospital to receive medical treatment. He sighed as she shook her head back and forth. She was obviously miserable, why wouldn’t she agree to stay? 

“Ms. Fisher, is there someone I can call to come be with you? That way you will feel more comfortable here.” He didn’t know what else to do. She needed to stay here, but it was obvious that if he didn’t figure some way to calm her down that she was going to leave against medical advice. Surprisingly, it appeared he had truly caught her attention with his question as she stopped shaking her head and managed to actually look at him. 

“Harrison,” Carrie croaked before another coughing fit overtook her. 

The doctor had to strain to understand her reply. “Harrison?” he repeated, his voice rising at the end in a questioning manner. Who was she talking about? He wanted to ask her to repeat her answer and to be more specific, but he could tell she wouldn’t be able to speak at the moment, and that speaking would only cause her more pain. Then it hit him who she meant. “Harrison Ford?” This time his question was met with a vigorous shaking of her head up and down. “Uh, all right, I will try my best to contact him.” How in the world was he going to contact Harrison Ford?

It took the doctor an hour to successfully make a call to the one and only Harrison Ford. Unfortunately, when the call had gone through, it had rung and rung before going to voicemail. The doctor had hurriedly left a short voicemail explaining that Carrie Fisher had been admitted and that it wasn’t an emergency, but would he please call the hospital back when he got the message. Now, he had returned to his patient’s room to tell her that he had been able to contact the person she had requested, but that he was still waiting for a return call. It was apparent as he reentered her room to do so, that her aversion to being in the hospital had not lessened one bit. In fact, it had only seemed to get worse. He was sure that the painful irritations caused by her illness were furthering her annoyance, but she really was going to have to calm down, whether she liked it or not. 

“Ms. Fisher, I have called Mr. Ford,” he began, her eyes flicking to rest on him as he uttered the name instead of looking around in a panic. “Unfortunately, he did not answer the phone, but I have left him a voicemail-” The doctor had to stop himself there as Carrie had bolted from the bed at his words. He wouldn’t have thought her to be capable of such fast movement as sick as she was, but it seemed that her aversion to being in the hospital gave her a determination that surprised him. The IV pulled from her arm then, but the patient didn’t even wince. The doctor rushed forward and put his arms on her shoulders to stop her before she could move another further. 

“You must lie down! You are very ill and you need to be in this hospital. I insist,” he told her, giving her a gentle, but still firm push backward to the bed. She tried to resist and he could see tears brimming in her eyes. As he suspected though, she didn’t have much strength, having used most of it to bolt from the bed so quickly, and he was able to guide her back onto the bed fairly easily. However, the tears had now begun to spill from her eyes and were rapidly turning to sobs. Of course, sobbing and coughing at the same time only made it even more difficult for her to breathe. Taking his hands from her shoulders, he backed away, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable from his touch. 

“Ms. Fisher, you really need to calm down and breathe.” Here he was, telling a woman to calm down. Not his brightest idea he guessed, but, in this case, it was the truth, she needed to, and it was obvious that she was in no state to tell him off for it anyway. “If you can’t control your breathing, you’re going to end up passing out.” That was the truth, too. She was hyperventilating and it very likely would lead to her losing consciousness within a matter of minutes. In fact, it seemed she was already at that point, as her body began to go slack and sink in on itself. Shaking his head, the doctor made sure she didn't tumble forward off the bed, but instead fell back into it.

Now that her body had put itself into calmer state on its own, he could address the problem with the IV that she had caused. 

The doctor worked quickly to clean her arm and to insert another IV into her other arm as her breathing slowed and returned to normal. She would wake again soon, and be back to her coughing and probable crying, which would not be productive to her receiving proper medical treatment. If he were to give her a mild sedative, he would have a few hours to find out how to calm her down, and some time to give the medicine he had given her to combat the pneumonia time to spread in her system and begin working.The doctor gathered the sedation liquid and measured out an amount that would buy him some time to figure out how to handle her behavior . He injected the liquid through the IV, made a note of it in her file, and then exited the room with a sigh

His day had already been stressful. And unbeknownst to and unluckily for him, the worst part had yet to happen. 

 ----

“WHERE IS SHE?” The doctor looked up from the chart he was reading with a confused frown on his face. What was happening? He could hear some sort of commotion in the hallway and it was only growing louder. Who on earth was shouting like this in the hospital? He could hear the nurse who sat at the desk and greeted visitors shouting to the intruder that he wasn’t allowed to go a patient’s room unannounced. Her insistences did not seem to deter the visitor, however, as the doctor heard a yell even louder than the first. “WHERE THE HELL IS CARRIE FISHER’S ROOM?”

This was getting ridiculous. Whoever was shouting at the top of their lungs was certainly going to disturb the other patients. Stepping into the hallway, the doctor took a few steps down the hall toward Ms. Fisher’s room to hopefully head off whoever thought they could just barge in. Wasn’t there supposed to be tight security downstairs? How had they let this lunatic in? It was at that moment that he saw who was yelling as the man in question rounded the corner of the hallway, still shouting. As soon as he identified the older gentleman though, the doctor wished he hadn’t. Walking toward him was none other than Harrison Ford. 

Any other time, the doctor may have been a little excited to see _the_ Harrison Ford, but not today. No, today he wanted to turn and run away as fast as he could. The actor’s six foot, one inch height was being put to good use, as he towered over the shorter doctor. The anger emanating from his body was palpable, and further evidenced by the scowl on his face. “Excuse me,” Ford began loudly, his tone anything but polite, “Do you know where I might find Carrie Fisher’s room?”

“Uh, hello,” the doctor stammered, trying to keep himself from shrinking away from the man in front of him. “Yes, actually, I’m her doctor. This is her room right here,” he said, gesturing to the room they were standing next to. Before he could get another word out, Ford had turned away from him and rushed into the room, straight to the side of the bed. The doctor followed him in and watched as the older man took in the sight of the woman lying in the bed, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“Your voicemail said she has pneumonia. That she was coughing like crazy and wouldn’t calm down.” Though it was voiced as a statement, the doctor could tell it was more of a question from the look on Ford’s face. “She looks pretty damn calm to me.” 

“That’s correct, she does have pneumonia and she was in a hysterical state about an hour ago,” he answered. 

“Was? What the hell happened to her? There’s no way she just fell asleep if she’s that sick,” Ford growled, turning his eyes to him now, the doctor feeling the actor’s piercing glare go right through him.

“Well, she was sobbing and coughing and couldn’t breathe. She was hyperventilating and passed out on her own. I knew if she woke up right away, she’d just start freaking out again, so I gave her a mild sedati-” The young doctor couldn’t even get the last syllable of the word out before he was interrupted. 

“YOU WHAT?” Ford roared, taking a step toward the younger man, his eyes wild with anger. “Where do you get off thinking that it’s a good idea to fucking sedate her?”

The actor’s anger and insult were making the doctor angry himself. “Now listen here, she wouldn’t calm down. Kept saying she couldn’t be here and that she had to leave right this instant. I don’t understand why she was reacting that way. She came to the hospital of her own free will in the first place.” 

“She has manic depression, or as you idiots call it now, bipolar disorder. You’d know this if you were old enough to read and had bothered to look at her chart for more than two seconds.” The doctor made no response and Ford continued, “Hospitals don’t exactly bring back the best memories for her, especially not this one. She was admitted to the mental hospital here once, which I’m sure is also in her chart.”

The doctor still did not comment. Ford had caught him in a bit of a bad position, it was true. If he were honest with himself, he hadn’t read his patient’s chart thoroughly, but before he could apologize in any sense, the blows kept coming. “So then your brilliant mind thought it would be best to give her a sedative? Did you even go to medical school? Obviously not, because if you had, you would have at least read the allergy, addictions, and current medication portions of her chart, if nothing else, and realized that it wasn’t a good idea to give her a sedative at all.”

“Excuse me, I am a completely competent and well respected doctor. I knew what I was doing, whether I read all of her chart or not. She needed to stay calm. Look, she’s obviously more relaxed than when she came in. At least she’s not hacking her lungs out right now like she would be if she were awake.” 

The doctor’s comment was met with another intense glare. “I guess they’re teaching you in whatever third rate medical school you went to that it’s okay to give sedatives to former drug addicts then, is that it? To patients who might have a bad reaction between the sedative and their medications?” Ford hissed, his anger remaining unchecked. “Do you realize if you gave her too much or the wrong one, the reaction with any or with a combination of her medications could be deadly?” 

“What do you know about practicing medicine?” the doctor retorted. “You’re not a doctor, you’re just Harrison Ford. You haven’t even ever played a doctor. I don’t do ‘mental illness’ cases, but I’m pretty sure I still know more than you,” he scoffed.

“Get out.”

“What?” the doctor asked incredulously. He was being kicked out of his own patient’s room? Not a chance. 

“You heard me,” Ford said, glaring down at him. “Get the fuck out of this room. You could have killed her.”

The doctor was flabbergasted. Never in his life would he have imagined this scene taking place. He was angry, but he could tell that Ford was not going to back down. The older man looked wild as he stared him down, and a part of him was worried that he might receive a punch from the legendary actor if he didn’t do as the man wished. Reluctantly, the doctor stepped back and toward the door. He was going to have to give the old man some time to cool down. He moved quickly but, apparently, still not fast enough to avoid catching the actor’s last piece of “advice” to him as he nearly ran out of the room. 

“The next person through that door better be a real fucking doctor.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is so dramatic. I'm sorry. But Carrie's finally awake!
> 
> EDITED 1/27/18 to better reflect Debbie/Carrie relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to thank my friend Cori for keeping me going, doing a fantastic beta job, and for generating some of the hilarious dialogue in this chapter.

Five minutes. Harrison growled, lowering his watch-clad wrist back to his lap. It had only been five minutes since the incompetent doctor had left the room and he was already getting antsy. He just wanted her to wake up. His hazel eyes took in her form lying in the bed, sleeping but not peacefully. It could be thirty years ago, he thought, struck by how similar the sight was. He pictured her, still clear as day in his memory, asleep in another hospital bed many years ago. He remembered the oxygen mask covering her pretty face, her chest heaving, though not because of pneumonia.

Wait. Harrison’s eyes darted to look at her face, now touched with age, but still as beautiful to him as ever. Where was the oxygen mask? He looked to her chest. It was hardly moving. He stood and leaned closer. Her lips were beginning to turn a light shade of purple. He put his face next to her mouth, trying to hear if she was breathing, and could barely feel her breath on his cheek. “Carrie,” he said worriedly, pulling back to his full height. He placed a hand on her shoulder and shook it gently. “Carrie, you need to breathe!”

Damn it. How had he taken this long to notice that she didn’t have a mask? He looked to the monitors by her bed to see their report but was met with black screens. The monitors weren’t even connected. She had been here for over an hour already and the monitors weren’t even connected. What the hell? He sprang into action and pressed the call button on the wall behind the bed. Glancing back to her lips, he noticed they were getting bluer. “We need help in here!” he yelled, not wanting to take his eyes off of her. However, he realized he needed to be heard. He turned and ran into the hallway. “DAMN IT! HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP!”

Luckily a nearby nurse took note and rushed toward him and into the room. “She can’t breathe! Please help her,” he pleaded, not knowing what else to say or do. He only hoped he had realized the problem in time and that the nurse would be able to get her some oxygen in time. He watched as the nurse frantically gathered the supplies and hooked everything up. He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief as she placed the mask over Carrie’s face, but it still wasn’t a guarantee that it would work. If he had caught it too late… well, he would never forgive himself.

That thought was pushed to the side for a moment as he heard the sound of the monitor turn on. The nurse placed the reader on her finger and they both watched the screens, waiting for her vitals to appear. Harrison walked closer to the bed where he could see the color of her lips again. It seemed that they were returning to more of a normal color, though he wasn’t sure if his brain was just playing a cruel trick on him. “Her pulse is speeding up,” the nurse commented, her eyes on the monitor. Harrison watched, refusing to blink, as her chest began to return to a normal breathing rate before heading toward the fast paced heaving it should be with her illness.

“She’s going to be okay,” he breathed as though to himself, finally letting the sigh of relief escape. 

“It was close, but she seems to be responding to the oxygen,” the nurse informed him, having heard the softly spoken words.

“Her chest is heaving, though. Is she still suffocating?” he asked, still worried, once again flashing back to the other time he’d seen her like this when she’d overdosed and he had thought the worst would happen.

“No, she’s breathing now, but she has a very bad case of pneumonia and her lungs are still struggling. Despite that though, she’ll probably wake up soon, but...” The nurse paused, but the tone of her last statement was intense enough to grab his attention, at least for a brief moment. He tore his eyes away from Carrie and focused on the nurse. “If you don’t mind me asking, why wasn’t she hooked up to all this stuff to begin with?” she questioned. “It’s against protocol and in her case…”

“I don’t fucking know!” he spat. “Why don’t you ask that idiot doctor who is supposed to be taking care of her? Obviously he knows nothing about how to care for a patient! And yes, I know she could have died, but thanks for reminding me.” The woman had winced at his crass outburst and he instantly softened, feeling bad for snapping at her. “I’m sorry. I was just so scared. I thought I was going to lose her. I- I can’t lose her,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper as he finished speaking, his eyes having drifted back to Carrie again. 

The nurse cleared her throat and mumbled, “Wow. I knew you two had a lot of chemistry on screen, but seeing you both here now...that wasn’t acting was it? You truly love her in the same way Han does Leia.”

Harrison’s head snapped back to look at her, panic in his eyes. Panic was how he reacted any time someone made a comment about the relationship between Carrie and himself. He got nervous, started sweating. He couldn’t let people know how he really felt. It wasn’t appropriate. But it was the truth, and this woman, who had just very well saved Carrie’s life, had been witness to his uncharacteristic display of emotion. He knew if he were to deny it she wouldn’t believe him anyway, and he couldn’t blame her. “You’re right.” The words felt so alien coming from his mouth, his customary panic reaction still trying to guide him away from saying the truth, but he forged ahead. “We’ve loved each other like that for a long time, and always will. I just hope I can tell her those three words again, I haven’t said them enough.” As he talked his head swivelled back to look at Carrie once more, unable to resist watching her like a hawk. 

“I hope so, too, Mr. Ford. I think you will,” the nurse told him. “I’ll be back in a bit to check in and see if she’s awake yet. I’ll also see about getting her a different doctor.”

“Thank you,” Harrison replied. “Does Doctor Goheer still work here?” he asked. There was no way in hell he was going to leave Carrie’s care up to any of the doctors here, even if they were competent. She needed a doctor who could be trusted, who would understand her unique reaction. Dr. Christopher Goheer, though he hadn’t been a doctor yet when the overdose had happened, had been there for her last few manic depressive fits when she’d had to go to the mental hospital. He was the only one Harrison would trust with her care. 

“I’m sorry, he actually transferred to a hospital in Seattle a few years ago. The University of Washington Medical Center, I think,” the woman answered him. Harrison sighed. Of course he had. Carrie was extremely ill and the one doctor who was familiar with her didn’t even work there anymore. He wasn’t going to let that hinder her care. 

“It’s fine, I’ll get him here somehow.” He wasn’t watching the nurse, but he could tell by her silence that she was most likely giving him a judging look. Just because he wasn’t a doctor himself didn’t mean he didn’t have ways of getting things done when he wanted them to be. He was a famous actor after all, not that he liked to use his influence that often, but in this case he would use it as heavily as needed to get the best doctor for Carrie. The nurse mumbled an okay and something about coming back later to check in on them, but he didn’t really hear her. 

Harrison picked up the chair that was pushed against the wall and walked it to the right side of the bed. He was going to sit there until she opened her eyes, no matter how long that took. He took her right hand in one of his and gave it a small squeeze. “You need to wake up, sweetheart,” he said, his voice cracking and betraying his emotion. “Please.” After waiting a few minutes without any change in her demeanor, he sighed and leaned back in the chair, still holding her hand with his left. His right hand went to his pocket and removed his cell phone from within. He could at least be productive while he sat by her side. 

Luckily his son had at least taught him the basics of using these high tech smartphones and he had little trouble opening the internet application and googling the University of Washington Medical Center. When the page loaded, he was provided with the option of pressing the little phone button on the screen. It was impressive how simple the internet made some things. He tapped the phone button and brought the device to his ear. It rang a few times before he heard someone greeting him.

Harrison waited until the voice on the end of the line had finished before speaking. “Yes, hello. This is Harrison Ford, and I’m-” He was cut off when the receptionist gasped and he had to roll his eyes. “Yes, _the_ Harrison Ford, now listen, I’m calling for Doctor Goheer, please. It’s urgent.”

\----

“The helicopter should be here soon, Harrison, and then I’ll be there as fast as I can.” 

Harrison nodded his head, even though the doctor couldn’t see him. “Perfect. Thank you so much, Christopher, I owe you one.” He had finally managed to get through to Dr. Goheer who had agreed to drop everything and rush to Los Angeles. 

“Really, it’s no problem. I know how much you care for…” Harrison had stopped listening at this point as he heard a small groan emanate from the only other person in the room. His eyes snapped to her face and he saw her eyelids fluttering. He gripped her hand tighter in his own and willed her to open them. He hadn’t realized that the doctor had stopped talking until he heard him calling “Harrison” through the phone. 

“I’m sorry. She’s waking up. I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” Harrison ended the call without waiting for Dr. Goheer to say goodbye. He knew the other man would understand. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and added that hand to his other, hers now sandwiched between his own. “Carrie,” he started. “Carrie come on you have to wake up. Open those beautiful brown eyes for me.” 

He waited with baited breath for what seemed an eternity, but was most likely not even a minute. Slowly she began to wake, her eyes fluttering open and shut a few times, another groan emitting from her mouth. As she came back to herself, her eyes finally remaining open to take in her surroundings, he could tell that she didn’t know he was there. He could see the panic in her eyes instantly as she quickly shot to a sitting position. Her right hand moved to grab at the oxygen mask at her face and he knew he needed to calm her down lest the dumb doctor return and try to sedate her again. 

“Carrie. Sweetheart, stop.” He removed one of his hands from hers to grab her other hand and prevent it from removing the oxygen mask. “Hey, I’m here, Carrie. It’s me, Harrison. You’re okay.” With her hands effectively restrained and the physical repercussions of her illness taking their toll on her body, she could do little to protest against his firm grip. “Carrie. It’s Harrison. I’m here. You’re going to be okay,” he tried again softly, knowing he just had to keep talking until his words sunk in. Finally, her eyes stopped roaming about the room and settled on him. He could see the panic start to disappear from them almost immediately. He felt her arms relax and he released her wrists, allowing them to drop to her sides. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Harris-” She couldn’t even get his full name out. Her diseased lungs protested and she began coughing, her eyes squeezing shut at the pain as she leaned forward, her body hunching in on itself. Harrison placed a hand on her back and rubbed it soothingly, trying to help her through the spasm. One of her hands came up and she took off the oxygen mask. He assumed she found it annoying to cough into, but it would have to go back on her face when she was done. 

They waited the coughing fit out and by the end she was gasping like a fish out of water. “Carrie, put the mask back on,” he encouraged her. She needed the oxygen to breathe right now, her lungs not being able to get enough oxygen on their own. He was met with a shake of her head. “It will help you breathe easier.” That should be reason enough for her to listen to him, but he knew why she was reluctant to do so, that she would be flashing back to eighty-four when she’d been just as ill of her own doing. While he understood her reluctance and really did feel for her, he was also extremely worried about her in this moment and she needed to put it back on. 

Harrison reached out and took the mask from her hand, earning himself a raised eyebrow in his direction that dared him to continue with his course of action. “You’re sick, Carrie, you need to wear the oxygen mask so you can breathe. I know what it reminds you of, but you have to get over it.” That probably wasn’t the right choice of words and he regretted them as soon as they were out, but didn’t she realize that she needed it to get better? She had brought herself to the hospital and that in itself told him that she knew how sick she was. 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Harrison said softly as he raised the mask to her mouth and fastened the straps around her ears. “But I know you know you need it.”

“Fuck you,” she croaked, giving him the accompanying hand motion as well. He had to roll his eyes. At least she was calmed down enough for her usual personality to start emerging. He’d take that over the state the doctor had described to him earlier. 

“Not in your condition, sweetheart. You’re already out of breath as it is,” he replied with a wink, trying to keep her engaged in discussion with him, to distract her from the thoughts he knew were in the back of her mind. “Imagine the tabloid headlines. ‘Carrie Fisher, suffering from pneumonia, ascends to a higher plane after a night with Harrison Ford.’ They’d have a an absolute field day.”

“I’m going to shove a plane,” she paused, another cough bursting forth and interrupting her sarcastic remark, “So high up your ass that-” He cut her off.

“Ah ah, you’re the one that wanted me here. Doctor Stupid told me you specifically requested me,” Harrison started, pleased when she rolled her eyes at him. “I mean, I can leave if you want and hand your care back over to that waste of a medical degree, but then you really will see that higher plane tonight.” It was a joke, but it was hard for him to even make. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened to her if he hadn’t gotten here when he did. If she had been alone and no one had noticed her not breathing… 

He could tell she realized the gravity of the situation herself as the sarcastic frown on her face went away and her gaze softened. She eased back to lean into the pillows against the raised upper portion of the bed. Her left hand reached out toward his right that he had let fall to the bad after rubbing her back and she placed her hand atop his. “Thank you for coming.” The emotion in her voice pulled at his heart. 

“Always, Carrie,” he answered, his own voice thick with emotion. He slid his hand out from under hers and wrapped it around hers instead, their palms together, and then squeezed. He cleared his throat, but doesn’t let go of her hand. “I’ve been in contact with Dr. Goheer. He doesn’t work here anymore, but he’s agreed to drop his service for the day and take a helicopter here. He’ll be here as soon as he can. You’re going to have the best care possible, I’ll make sure of it.” This time it was she who squeezed his hand, thanking him a second time, though without words. 

She coughed again and he winced along with her. “Do you want some water?” he asked. She nodded her head yes and he reached behind her bed to press the call button again, this time with much less urgency than he had about an hour ago. They sat in companionable silence as they waited for the nurse to come. He didn’t want to make her talk anymore until she had some water to drink as he figured her throat was most likely very sore from coughing so much. 

The nurse arrived after a few minutes and Harrison politely asked her to fetch some water. It didn’t take long for her to bring it back and he poured some into a cup after she had left. He put a straw into the cup to make it easier for her to drink and held it near her mouth. “You told me I have to wear the mask,” she sassed, her voice full of humor though it was hoarse. He rolled his eyes as she removed the mask to take a drink from the cup of water he held out to her. When Carrie was finished drinking Harrison took the cup back and set it down on the tray table where the water pitcher sat while she replaced the mask back over her mouth. It was then that her demeanor shifted. He was attuned to her mood shifts after more than thirty-five years of knowing her so he noticed right away. 

“What’s wrong?” he questioned, wondering what had upset her. 

“Gary. Where’s Gary?” She had sat up again, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for her dog who was clearly not there.

“Did you bring him with you?” Harrison asked in reply. He certainly hadn’t seen the dog on his way to her room or during the time he had been there since his arrival. Now that he thought about it, that should have concerned him. Carrie took the dog practically everywhere. He was her service dog, after all.

She nodded her head. “Yes, they let me bring him into the room with me. But that doctor didn’t want him in here.”

“Well where did they take him?” he questioned, growing annoyed with the doctor once again. The doctor hadn’t mentioned that she’d had Gary with her. Harrison was beginning to understand why Carrie had been in such a state before he had arrived. The doctor had taken Gary away from her. He was her psychological support, the thing that kept her calm. Often performing grounding and disruptive commands to keep her centered when she became overwhelmed, manic and/or disoriented, especially in public. Without him to center her, he wasn’t surprised she had started to freak out. Public events were one thing, but the hospital was a place that held so many unsettling emotions for Carrie that having Gary with her would be beyond absolutely necessary. 

“I think they had my mother pick him up.”

“You _think_?”

“Well, I didn’t see her. The doctor just took him and said he was giving him to her to take home.”

“You didn’t _see_ her? She didn’t come up to check on you?”

“No…” Carrie admitted. Harrison was already reaching for his phone. “What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Calling your mother,” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Harrison,” she reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Please don’t,” she begged.

He frowned. “Don’t you want to see her? She comforts you. You two are so close,” he murmured, confused.

“I don’t want her to worry,” Carrie whispered. “Right now she doesn’t know how bad it is. I don’t want to excite her, Harrison. I don’t know if she can take it. Plus, if I’m this sick, I don’t want to get her sick, or have her catch anything else from being in the hospital,” she explained, another coughing fit taking over after talking for so long. 

Harrison nodded and watched her worriedly as she made it through her coughing fit. “Okay, Honey. That makes sense. You’re right,” he admitted, though he wished Debbie could come to give her daughter more support. He brushed his thumb against the back of her hand. “Well, at least let me call her and have her bring Gary? We can have someone meet her outside to get him and bring him up,” he suggested.

Carrie thought about it for a moment and nodded slightly. “Alright, but please don’t tell her how bad I am. Please,” she insisted, squeezing his hand before letting go so he could make the call. 

Harrison sighed and made the call. The phone rang a few times before he heard Debbie’s airy voice greet him. “Debbie. It’s Harrison,” he informed her.

“Oh, hello, dear, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Debbie. How are you?” he asked, trying to not let his impatience show. 

“I’m feeling pretty well today, Harrison. I am a bit concerned though. I picked up Gary at the hospital. No one really told me anything, so I don’t know if Carrie is alright,” she murmured. 

Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose, his temper flaring a bit. He took a deep breath before responding. “I’m actually sitting beside her,” he replied.

“Oh! You’re with her? You’re so wonderful, darling. I’m sure she’s very happy to have you there,” Debbie smiled.

The hint of a smile crossed Harrison’s face at her words. “She had the doctor get me to come,” he told her lightly. “She told me she was pretty sure you had come to pick up Gary. You didn’t ask about her when you were here?” he couldn’t help but question, trying to avoid Carrie’s glare.

“Well, I did, but she didn’t seem to need me. That nice, accomplished looking young doctor said she was resting comfortably and he would be able to treat her, but that Gary would just get in the way so I agreed to take him home.”

Harrison had to bite his tongue to keep from responding with the first words that came to his mind. He waited a moment. “Well, Debbie, ah, she’s going to be alright,” he assured her, silently praying to himself that she would be. He glanced at Carrie and gave her a small smiled. “But, I do think she might be here for a bit and she would benefit from having Gary with her.” 

“Of course, dear. I should have realized that. There’s a reason she has him in the first place, and he really does help her, doesn’t he? I’ll bring him right away. Please tell Carrie I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Debbie,” he rumbled. “Don’t worry about Carrie. I’ll be right here with her,” he promised.

“Oh, I know you will, Harrison. You love her, even if you don’t always tell her. I’ve always thought you were perfect for her! Take care of my baby,” Debbie cooed. “Goodbye!” 

Harrison hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket and cradled his head in his hands, closing his eyes. Debbie was right. He didn’t tell her enough, and he had almost lost his chance to tell her again today.

“What’s wrong?” he heard Carrie ask. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to find her staring at him.

“Nothing, Sweetheart. I’m fine,” he gave a small smile. “Debbie’s going to bring Gary right away. I’ll go down and meet her when she gets here. I’ll try really hard to hide my worry,” he promised. “And to my temper if she tries to be too positive about it,” he added.

“She means well, she’s just Debbie. That’s how she copes with things,” Carrie reminded him.

“Yeah, well, doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled.

Carrie smirked. “Fair enough. Thank you for calling her.” She paused to cough for a minute. “When I get home, maybe I’ll call her and have her come over once I’m feeling a little better. I don’t want to worry her,” she asserted again. She smirked slightly. “Plus, I don’t always like hearing her overly positive outlook either, you know.”

Harrison sighed. “I know, I know. It’s just hard. You care for her all the time and sometimes I just wish she took better care of you is all. I know you love her, and I know she loves you, she just doesn’t always show it in the ways I think you deserve.”

“She does the best she can,” Carrie replied quietly. Harrison sighed and took hold of her hand once more. He knew she knew his feelings regarding her mother and it was somewhat of a sore subject. He really didn’t want to upset her any further, so he decided to drop the subject.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some honest conversation, with some light banter thrown in as well!

Carrie eventually fell back asleep after Harrison urged her to rest. She coughed less while asleep and for that he was grateful. She had been asleep for around an hour now and he had just been holding her hand while she slept. He hoped that Doctor Goheer would arrive soon and be able to give his expert opinion on her care. 

Harrison had no more than thought of the doctor’s arrival when he heard someone enter the room. He looked to the doorway to find Doctor Goheer making his way across the room. Harrison removed his hand from atop Carrie’s and stood, moving to shake Doctor Goheer’s hand. 

“Harrison, it’s been awhile,” Doctor Goheer greeted, shaking the Harrison’s outstretched hand. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Doc,” Harrison replied. “Though I must admit that I would have prefered we not have to see each other again at Carrie’s expense.”

“I agree,” Goheer responded, nodding his head. “All right, let’s get started then. I know you told me on the phone what’s up, but if you could just go through what you know again, I would appreciate it.”

“Sure. She’s got some sort of pneumonia, though that idiot doctor didn’t tell me which type and he took her chart with him so I couldn’t read it there. He said that before I got here she was beginning to freak out and insisting she needed to leave, I know you know why she hates hospitals so much, but when she passed out from hyperventilating, this doctor had the brilliant idea to sedate her, so when I got here she was still out from that.

“They didn’t have her on any oxygen, or even hooked up to the monitors, and I didn’t notice right away, so we had a close call, but a nurse came and got everything hooked up. She woke up for a bit earlier and she’s been asleep for about a half hour now, if I’m remem-” Harrison was interrupted by a muffled voice from the bed.

“You know, I’m right here, I can talk for myself,” she said, sassy as ever, though the volume of her voice was diminished by the mask over her mouth. 

Harrison rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and how are you supposed to tell him what happened when you were unconscious for most of it, huh?”

Dr. Goheer chuckled at their banter. It appeared that was one thing that hadn’t changed a bit in the years since he’d last seen the pair. “Hello, Carrie.” He moved to stand beside her bed on the opposite of Harrison’s chair. “I’m glad to see your personality isn’t suffering from your illness at all,” he joked with a smirk. Turning serious, he regarded her with concerned eyes. “I know you must be feeling really awful to have brought yourself to the hospital. I’m going to take good care of you and help you get better so you can leave as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, about that, Doc, I was thinking-” Harrison started, but he found himself interrupted for the second time in a matter of minutes.

“Oh, I’m sure I know exactly what you were thinking, Harrison,” Dr. Goheer challenged, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “You have to let me actually check her out first before I can even give you an opinion on that.” Harrison’s lips set into a thin line and Carrie couldn’t help but laugh at seeing Harrison admonished by the doctor. This, however, of course resulted in another round of coughing. 

Harrison sighed and was about to take his seat once again to let the doctor proceed when the nurse from before knocked on the doorframe and and addressed him, “Mr. Ford?”

“Yes?” he answered, glancing to the woman as she stepped into the room.

“Ms. Reynolds is downstairs and she’s asking for you,” she informed him. 

“Damn woman won’t even come upstairs without an escort. If she really cared she’d be rushing up here in a panic…” Harrison mumbled to himself, trailing off when he realized he was being harsh and probably upsetting Carrie. He looked to her apologetically. “I’ll go down and get her, sweetheart. Doctor Goheer can start looking you over while I’m gone. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He really didn’t want to leave her, even if it would only be ten minutes or less, but he knew he had no choice. He could, however, use that time to make her mother actually be a parent. “And I’ll make her come up with me,” he added gruffly, leaving no room for protest. He turned and followed the nurse out of the room before he could change his mind about being away from her. 

Harrison made his way to the elevators and pushed the down button with a little more force than was probably necessary. He wasn’t thrilled about seeing Debbie, but he would do anything to make Carrie more comfortable while she was in the hospital and having Gary here was instrumental to that. He knew it would also mean a lot to Carrie to have her mom come up and check on her, whether she would admit it or not. He knew she didn’t like to seem like a burden to her mother. In fact, she had been the one to start taking care of her mother as Debbie grew older and Harrison knew that was the right thing for her to do, but he couldn’t help but think to himself that sometimes Carrie put more effort into the relationship between she and her mother than Debbie did, and it irked him. 

He continued to stew over these thoughts as the elevator dropped a few floors and then as he stepped out into the lobby. Once there though, he quickly put his thoughts aside, and focused on the task ahead. 

Debbie wasn’t hard to spot, dressed to the nines in her typical eccentric fashion despite the fact that she was only going to the hospital and not out for some publicized event. Not to mention, she was the only one with a dog in the room. He walked toward them and as he got closer Gary noticed him. The dog became excited, or at least Harrison assumed so as the french bulldog really didn’t show much emotion, and stood up to attempt and rush toward Harrison. 

This tug on the leash caught Debbie’s attention and she looked to see what had spurred the dog into action. “Harrison!” she greeted warmly. “So nice to see you dear!” She held out her arms for a hug. This was the last thing Harrison wanted to do at the moment, but he remembered Carrie’s earlier scolding and reluctantly hugged her back.

“Debbie,” he replied curtly, moving out of the embrace. “Likewise.” So far so good. He was proud of himself for not shouting at her right away. Kneeling down, he finally addressed the dog who was vying for his attention. “Hey there, little guy,” Harrison said, his tone much warmer than it was a second ago. He patted the dog on the head and laughed as Gary jumped a bit to lick his face. Rising to his full height once more, Harrison turned his attention back to Carrie’s mother. 

“Thanks for bringing Gary back, Debbie. Carrie needs him,” he began. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and keep his calm. “It wouldn’t hurt if you came up to see her, as well.” 

“Oh, yes, of course dear,” Debbie replied right away. “Really, I would have before if I’d have known how ill she was. I just had no idea.”

 _You still should have checked in on her, no matter what,_ he thought to himself. He bit back this retort from actually coming out of his mouth and instead answered, “Well, you’re here now. Let’s go up, then.” He led her and Gary across the lobby and back to the elevators where he pressed the up button with less force than he had used a few minutes ago. The elevator arrived and they got in and he pressed the button for the correct floor. The ride up was silent, as he didn’t feel like making small talk with her and he guessed that she must have felt some of his anger towards her though he wasn’t really showing it, because she stayed quiet as well. 

When the elevator reached the correct floor and the doors opened, the trio stepped out and Harrison once again led them through the hallways to Carrie’s room. “I’m back,” he announced with a grin. “Miss me?” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes. “I brought gifts to make up for it.” He watched her eyes move from him to her mother and down to Gary, a smile forming on her face. 

“Oh, my dear Carrie,” Debbie said, brushing past Harrison to move into the room with Gary, who had noticed his owner in the bed and was pulling on the leash to go to her. 

“Hello, Mother,” Carrie greeted. 

“How are you, darling?” Debbie asked, sitting herself down in Harrison’s chair. 

“Oh, just fine. Peachy keen, really,” Carrie replied. The coughing fit that followed served to contrast her sarcastic wit. 

Harrison noticed Gary staring up at the bed and realized it must be too high for him to jump up onto it. He moved forward and unclipped Gary from the leash and lifted the dog onto the bed. Gary immediately moved to lick his mother’s face, or at least what wasn’t covered by the oxygen mask, which turned out to be mostly just her cheek. He then settled down by her side where she could easily pet him, which she did right away. Harrison was relieved to see the slightest shift in her demeanor, the subtle relaxation of her shoulders that told him she felt more at ease now that Gary was here. 

“Your cough sounds terrible. I hope that young doctor knows what he’s doing and can get you all better soon,” Debbie declared.

“He doesn’t,” Harrison asserted, breaking into the conversation. “But I called Doctor Goheer and he’s flown in to make sure she gets the treatment she needs.”

“Oh, wonderful. Bless you, Harrison,” Debbie enthused. “You always take such good care of my Carrie.” 

“That he does,” Carrie confirmed, still petting Gary who was already falling asleep beside her. Harrison caught the look of gratitude she sent his way and gave a small smile back. 

“I’m going to talk with the doctor and ask him if she can go home to recover, under my care of course,” he informed Debbie. 

Dr. Goheer chose that moment to re-enter the room. “Ms. Reynolds,” he acknowledged, nodding at the older woman before turning to Harrison. “I know that’s what you want, Harrison. Let’s step into the hallway and discuss things for moment.” Harrison nodded and followed him out of the room. 

“She’s got a nasty bacterial strain of pneumonia, but that the fact that it’s bacterially caused is good because it means it can be treated with antibiotics,” Dr. Goheer started, trying to calm Harrison’s nerves. Harrison nodded. “I’d like her to stay overnight just so we can keep a close watch on her, but really, I agree, it would be better for her to recuperate at home, what with all the other sick people in the hospital who could infect her more. So, if her vitals stay consistent overnight and she does okay off of supplemental oxygen starting in the morning , I would consider releasing her tomorrow afternoon under the condition that you’d stay with her and bring her back if she seems to be getting worse.”

“Of course,” Harrison agreed readily. He had been planning to stay with her even before the doctor had made the request . He wasn’t going to leave her while she was still sick, and he especially wasn’t going to break her out of the hospital just to leave her home alone. 

“Well, then, it sounds like a deal. I’m going to go write up the prescription for the medicine for her to take home with her, but for now she’s got it coming through her IV, so she is receiving treatment.” 

“Okay. Thanks, Doc,” Harrison replied, the relief at having his master plan agreed to showing in his voice. He moved to go back into the room, but the doctor stopped him for a moment. 

“Oh, and Harrison. The sedative mixing with her medications is probably going to produce a negative effect eventually. You know, nausea, possibly vomiting. Just be prepared.” Harrison nodded and the doctor walked away. 

Harrison turned to enter the room once again, but found himself stopping before he could be seen as he heard the conversation between mother and daughter emanating from the room. 

“It’s astonishing he’s here, Carrie. How many times has that man dropped what he’s been doing and come to your side when you’ve needed him? He obviously loves you a great deal.”

He heard Carrie’s reply and had to restrain himself from bursting into the room and gathering her into a bone crushing hug right then and there. “I’d do the same. I love him, too.”

Debbie’s voice floated to his ears again. “It really is a shame he went and got married to another woman again, dear. I mean honestly, that woman must know she doesn’t hold a candle to you in his heart. I really don’t know why he didn’t just marry you, I think that-”

“Not this again, Mother. _Not now_. I can’t keep hearing this from you,” came Carrie’s reply and Harrison could hear the pain that laced her words. He felt his own heart constrict with guilt and sorrow. “He loves his wife and I respect that. Besides, he’s here now, and that’s what matters.”

“I know, honey, you’re right.” Harrison waited to see if the conversation would continue, as he didn’t want to enter right now and have them realize he’d overheard. When he had waited what he considered to be a suitable amount of time and the conversation hadn’t resumed, he walked back into the room. 

“Great news, Sweetheart! Looks like you’ll probably get to go home tomorrow afternoon, into the care of the one and only Doctor Ford.” He flashed her his signature grin. 

“Oh, how lucky I am,” Carrie teased. “You’ve never even played a doctor. Maybe I should just suck it up and stay here, who knows what will happen to me under your care.”

“Fine, if you don’t want my _special_ care, then I guess you’ll just have to stay here,” he teased back. 

“Oh, well I could never resist that.” Carrie winked at him. 

“Well, Darling, it appears you’re well taken care of,” Debbie said, standing from her chair and glancing at Harrison. “Call me if you go home tomorrow.” She looked to Harrison. “And call me if there’s anything she needs.” She leaned over the bed to place a kiss on her daughter’s forehead and then walked to the door. “Goodbye, dears,” she singsonged.

“Goodbye, Mother.”

“Goodbye, Debbie.”

Debbie paused on her way out and turned back. “Oh, and Harrison, thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

“Of course,” he answered fervently. Harrison felt her knowing stare pierce right through him and he swallowed hard. Then she was gone. 

He reclaimed his seat and cleared his throat. “So, I, uh, heard your conversation with your mother,” he began, not wanting to hide anything from her. The hand that was petting Gary stilled and she took a sharp intake of breath, which brought on another fit of coughing. 

When she managed to stop coughing Carrie answered him, “Harrison, I’m sorry, I- you shouldn’t have heard- she shouldn’t have said it, she just-” 

He could tell she was extremely flustered and seemingly embarrassed, which actually surprised him a bit. She was the one who was always talking about their relationship in public. It didn’t surprise him that she would talk about it with her mother, as well. Debbie was probably one of the few people Carrie actually got to vent to about the interesting relationship that had been between them for almost forty years. Relationships were just the sort of thing daughters confided in their mothers about.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, relax,” Harrison soothed, mentally berating himself for bringing it up and causing her distress. “She’s right, you know,” he admitted, his voice soft. He watched her wince, a shadow crossing over her face quickly before she put on the steely mask she was so good at using to try and cover her feelings. His heart clenched again and he wondered once more why he was doing this when it so obviously upset her.

“It doesn’t change the situation, Harrison,” Carrie whispered back, voice thick with emotion at what he was implying, tears springing to her eyes and slowly leaking down her cheeks. 

He swallowed again, unprepared for the sight of her tears. He felt wetness pooling in his own eyes. “I’m sorry,” Harrison whispered back, his own voice conveying the guilt and sorrow he felt at causing her pain. 

“It’s fine. Someday I won’t be around to ruin your happiness anymore,” she joked with a dry chuckle, which only caused her to cough again, leaving the comment to hang in the air.

That just made him angry. “How can you say that?” he seethed, forgetting about her pain for a second. How dare she tell him that she was standing in the way of his happiness? How dare she joke about not being alive? “Goddamnit, Carrie.” He took a deep breath to reign in his anger, the pools of moisture in his eyes overflowing, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “Move over,” he gruffed, standing up from his chair. 

“What?” Carrie’s eyes snapped to look at him, confusion in them. 

“You heard me. Move over.” 

Carrie did as she was told, moving over as far to the other side of the bed as she could, which mildly inconvenienced the sleeping Gary. The dog stood and moved to the bottom of the bed, where he resettled half on the mattress, half on top of her legs. Harrison climbed into the slim space she had left him and instantly wrapped her in his arms, pressing her head against his chest. He then closed his eyes as his tears continued to flow freely, surely dropping onto her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. 

“Holding the woman I love,” he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to say. 

Harrison felt her stiffen, then grab him harder. “The door’s open, someone could walk in at any moment and see, you shouldn’t-” 

He interrupted her. “Shhh, I don’t care, let them see.” 

There was silence for a moment. “Harrison, you’re crying,” Carrie noted, sniffling herself. He could tell from her tone of voice that she was taken aback. It was true that it was rare that he cried, but it was almost always women that caused it, and more often than not it was this woman in particular.

“I can’t stand to see you in pain, Carrie.” It was the truth. Seeing her in pain tore at his heart, and to be the cause of that pain made it even more unbearable. Not to mention the hurt he felt from the words she had so carelessly flung in his direction, even though he knew they stemmed from her pain. “And I could never stand losing you. Ever. _You_ are my happiness. I love you. ” 

He felt her shoulders shake then as she began to sob, curling herself even closer against him, head firmly pressed into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. What a sight they would indeed be if someone were to walk into the room then, the two of them holding onto each other for dear life as they cried. But as he’d told her, he didn’t care about that anymore. All that mattered was that he comfort her and make her feel his love. He rubbed soothing circles on her back and placed a soft kiss into her hair, whispering the words over and over until her cries quieted down. 

When she was finally able to speak again, he had to strain to hear her as her words were muffled against his chest. “I want to say that I know, Harrison. You’ve said it on and off over the years, but,” she paused and took a deep breath, pulling away from his chest a bit more, which allowed him to hear her better. “In reality, I’ve been too scared to hope that you truly meant it for nearly forty years. So, thank you for telling me this way, so I don’t have to be afraid anymore.” 

Now it was his turn to break down into a fit of sobs. Carrie’s words hit him hard. He knew how much she loved him, she had always been overt and steadfast in her devotion to him, but he was astonished at the level of pain he had, however inadvertently, caused her over the years. The fact that she had been so unsure of his feelings while he had basked in the depth and steadfastness of her love for the entirety of their relationship, crushed him to a level of agony he had never before experienced. He tightened his hold on her and managed to choke out, “Don’t ever doubt how much I love you again.” 


	4. Finally Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you thought the last chapter was emotional, prepare yourself for this chapter. Thanks again to Cori for her amazing beta work and for giving me the awesome ideas for this chapter!

The truck pulled up to the gate and Harrison put the vehicle in park before getting out to type in the code that would open the wooden doors. Carrie had to hold Gary tightly in her lap as the dog became excited when he realized they were home. As the doors began to swing open, Harrison climbed back into the cab of his truck and put it into drive again before heading up the long driveway. When the driveway ended at the bottom of the pathway to her house, he parked and turned off the truck. He then regarded the sloping step path that led up to her front door warily. This was going to be interesting. 

He had wheeled her out of the hospital and to his truck as her lungs were not conducive to her walking for more than a couple minutes. It had taken a considerable effort on her part to even get up into the truck. He glanced over at Carrie in the passenger’s seat to find she was now already reaching for the door handle, Gary on the floor of the truck at her feet. He opened his own door and hopped down, before heading around to her side to help her. By the time he reached her side she had her door open and Gary had already hopped out and was running into her yard, most likely to relieve himself. Getting Carrie out of the truck was easier than getting her in had been. He offered her a hand and helped support her as she stepped down onto the ground. Letting go of her hand, he then closed the door behind her and turned to face the pathway with her.

“You sure you’re up for walking this?” Harrison questioned, concern creeping into his voice. While the hill wasn’t super steep, it was fairly long for her to traverse with breathing difficulties. “I could go inside and get that wheelchair you guys keep around for Debbie, so you don’t have to walk.”

“Come on, Hotshot,” Carrie said, smacking his arm playfully and starting up the pathway. “As amazing as you are, even you can’t wheel me up the steps.”

“I could lift it over the steps,” he argued behind her, taking two long strides to be at her side again. “You’re not supposed to be walking long distances.”

“You are definitely not lifting me in a wheelchair,” she chided. “Besides, it’s not that far and I _can_ walk. It’s not like I have a broken leg.”

“All right, well, just take it easy,” he suggested as he walked along beside her. 

Carrie didn’t answer and Harrison didn’t try to continue the conversation. He figured it was easier for her if she wasn’t talking and instead conserved her breaths. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the walk taking them much longer than it would if she had been in better health. She had started breathing heavily and he wished he could help her. “This is what you get for smoking all those cigarettes, you know.”

Carrie laughed, causing her to cough. When she was able to speak, she replied, “You’re one to talk, Marlboro Man. You may not smoke cigarettes anymore, but I know you’re still sneaking cigars every once in awhile.” 

Her breaths were coming in pants now and they were barely seventy-five percent of the way there. “Why don’t we stop and rest for a minute?” he suggested, but she shook her head no and continued on, so he decided to reply to her last comment. “Yeah, well if my lungs are going to sound like that if I ever get pneumonia then I guess I’d better actually quit completely because-” The sudden and tight grasp of her hand on his arm cut him off and stopped him in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, instantly worried, his voice increasing and drawing the attention of the dog running around the yard. Harrison was only vaguely aware of Gary trotting over to them as he waited for Carrie to respond. 

“I can’t breathe,” she managed to choke out, still gripping tightly onto his arm. He could see the panic in her face and his heart dropped. 

“Okay, Carrie, you’re going to be okay. Take deep breaths,” he instructed, gripping onto her arms and allowing her to do the same to steady herself. 

“I would,” she paused for a breath and sent a glare his way. “If I could.”

“Just keep trying,” he encouraged. “That’s all you can do.” 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Carrie replied, still fighting to catch her breath. “I need to sit down.” There was no way she was going to be able to walk the last quarter of the way to her front door. With no other option, he removed his hands from her arms and scooped her up. 

“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieked, or rather it would have been a shriek if she’d had her normal lung capacity. Instead it came out more of a hoarse yell punctuated by her heavy breathing. “Put me down this instant! You’re going to break your back!”

“Shut up, Carrie, and just work on those deep breaths, please,” Harrison retorted as he carried her up the rest of the pathway, Gary hot on his heels. Surprisingly she did as he asked and they reached her porch quickly, much to the protests of his body as his own lungs were now aching with the effort, and he sat her down on an outdoor wicker sofa before reaching into his pocket to take out his keys so he could unlock the door. Gary jumped up on the couch beside her. She was breathing better now since she had listened to him and focused on it, but then he realized that likely the only reason she had done so was so she could yell at him some more, and boy was she mad, evidenced by her foul language being put on full display in her next words to him.

“Harrison fucking Ford, what was that shit? You’re seventy-three fucking years old. You can’t carry me! What if you’d fucked up your back?” She stopped then and he glanced at her to see she was attempting to deep breathe again after working herself up and saying so much to him at one time. Her face showed her continued anger though and he couldn’t help but laugh, which made her even angrier. 

“Well, sweetheart, it wouldn’t have been because we were having _fun_ ,” Harrison joked, waggling his eyebrows at her as he turned his key in the lock. “But it still would have been worth it.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure having the two of us lying on the ground, you with a broken back and me unable to even get inside the house to call for help would have been just lovely.” 

Her sassiness never ceased to amaze him. Rolling his eyes he put his keys back in his pocket, walked over to her, and picked her up again to carry her inside the house. 

“What the _fuck_?” she growled as he maneuvered them into the house and to her living room. “Do you _ever_ listen to anything I say? You really could get hurt, Harrison, please don’t lift me anymore,” she pleaded as he set her down on a sofa in the living room. 

“I can’t promise you that,” he said seriously, taking a seat beside her, Gary jumping up between them. “I’m sorry, but I am going to do anything within my power to help you get better as quickly as possible, even if it puts me at risk somehow.”

She looked away from him then and reached out a hand to pet Gary. “Oh.“ She paused, seeming to ponder his last words for a moment. “It’s fine, Harrison, go on and get back to your life, don’t worry so much over me and certainly don’t hurt yourself trying to help me and still make your other obligations. I know how it is, we’ve been doing this a long time. You don’t need to remind me how the dance goes, though carrying me over the threshold was new. A little too permanent for our style, I think.”

“What are you talking about?” He was confused as to why she was actually angry with him now, her words biting and sarcastic.

“I’m an inconvenience. I get it. You got me out of the hospital because you know I hate it there. Well, thank you for that, but you can leave now and get back to whatever it is I’m keeping you from. You have a family, I know they need you. And you’re also ‘the Harrison Ford.’ You have a duty to the public with a title like that. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He wanted to get angry; he was angry. He wanted to shout at her like they used to, to make her see reason. Hadn’t they just been over this the day before? Why wouldn’t she ever believe him? The anger faded, though, as fast as it had appeared. Instead he was filled with remorse, guilt at how he’s made her feel all these years without really realizing it. He would have to spend the rest of his life proving to her just how much she meant to him, and he was going to start now.

“I don’t care about my title, you should know that. In fact, I know you know that.” She was probably the person he could be the most honest with in this world, and they’d had many conversations about their fame, particularly his, and their feelings on it. “I do have a family,” he conceded. “They are important to me, I love them, but they’re mostly grown. And yes, I have a wife,” he admitted, watching her wince, her hand clenching atop Gary’s back. He put one hand on top of hers and she didn’t react, but she didn’t pull away, and so he continued on. 

“But seeing you like this, affected by the pain I’ve caused you for years,” he choked out, becoming emotional, tears welling in his eyes for the second time in two days. “I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered. He felt her hand stiffen underneath his and she still didn’t turn to look at him. 

“Fuck you.” Her voice was cold and hollow to his ears. “Go to hell, but leave my house first.”

Harrison was momentarily taken aback at her harsh words. “What? Sweetheart, I don’t want to leave,” he stressed. 

“Don’t _Sweetheart_ me right after you’ve said you’re done with me, just one day after telling me that you love me, Asshole. And they say I’m the one with mood challenges.”

“I’m not done with… oh Carrie, Sweetheart. I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just can’t stand to cause you pain,” he tried to explain himself. “I’m never leaving again.” The hand underneath his relaxed ever so slightly. He raised his other arm and stretched his hand out to tentatively cup her chin, slowly turning her head until she had no choice other than to look at him, moving his hand up to her cheek. She seemed to soften then, leaning into his hand, her eyes closing at the feeling of his gentle touch. “I would do _anything_ for you, Carrie. I _will_ do anything. It’s you, and it always has been. I don’t want to spend one more day with you thinking otherwise.”

It’s out there. He’s said it. He noticed then the couple of tears that had rolled down his cheeks. _Damn_ , he thought, echoing his musings from the day before, _this woman really does make me cry more than anyone ever has in my life_. She didn’t say anything, but that was okay. He’d effectively just dropped a bomb and he was sure she needed time to process. He watched her face for any signs of a reaction and when she started to open her mouth he’d waited with baited breath. 

No words came. Instead, he felt her tense. She pulled her face away from his hand, her eyes snapping open wide, and quickly removed the hand trapped underneath his and on top of Gary, bringing it to her mouth. She pointed to the garbage can in the corner of the room with her other hand. 

Harrison sprung into action, swiftly standing from the couch and dashing to grab the trash bin as fast as he could. As he turned back, he could see her shoulders heave once and he crossed the room in three large strides, shoving the bin in front of her just before it was too late. Carrie vomited into the garbage can, her hands coming to hold onto the sides of it and perch it on her lap. He sat back down on the couch beside her, closer than before as Gary had vacated his spot when she began throwing up. The dog still stayed close, however, surely worried about his mom. Harrison gathered her hair back from her face with his left hand, his right rubbing soothing circles over her back as they waited out this first round of sickness. 

When it seemed she was finished, he released her hair and took the garbage bin from her. “I’m gonna go switch trash bags and get you some water, I’ll be right back,” he told her before walking into the kitchen. It didn’t take him long to do those things and he was soon back on the couch beside her, though Gary had once again jumped up to comfort her. He put the garbage can down on the floor in front of her in case she would need it again and handed her the glass of water. 

“Thank you,” she said as she accepted the glass of water. The doctor had warned them again that morning that because there could still be traces of the sedative in her system, she might get sick if she took her bipolar medications. However, the amount of sedative in her system was no longer large enough of an amount that it would be dangerous to mix with her medications, just very inconvenient, as she was coming to realize. “Doctor Goheer wasn’t kidding when he said I might have a reaction. I guess I shouldn’t have taken my medications this morning.” It was an attempt to find humor in the situation, something she was known to do all the time, but right now he could tell her heart wasn’t in it, that this just plain sucked for her.. 

Carrie continued to be sick on and off for almost an hour and Harrison continued to do as he had before, holding her hair and trying to soothe her. At this point, there wasn’t really anything left for her to throw up, and she was really only dry heaving. His heart ached for her. Her breathing was once again labored after being at this for so long, and silent tears had long ago began falling. She finished another round of dry heaving and he released her hair as she sat back against the couch, her eyes closed in frustration. 

Harrison watched as she tried deep breathing again. She worked at it for a minute before her shoulders started to shake. Her eyes were still closed and she was still crying, but it didn’t seem like she was shaking because of that. Instead, it seemed like she was… laughing? She was, he noted, the sound beginning to emanate from her then. “Are you laughing?” he asked incredulously, which only seemed to make her laugh harder. “I fail to see anything funny about this at all.”

Carrie managed to stop laughing long enough to answer him. “I can’t breathe, I’m throwing up, my abs hurt so badly I can’t move, I can’t stop crying, and you’re here comforting me. Doesn’t that sound like something else to you?” As he looked at her, she opened her eyes and looked back at him, laughing even harder, he guessed, at the look of confusion he knew was displayed on his face. “I’m in labor.” 

He could barely make out what she said, she was laughing so much. _Labor?_ he thought, _there’s no way. Except…_ Harrison’s eyes widened. They’d been seeing a lot of each other recently, beginning when they’d agreed to do the movies. And since then, they had definitely been spending a lot of _quality_ time together. But, she couldn’t get pregnant anymore, could she? _Besides_ , he mused, _she didn’t look pregnant_. “Uh, Dear, you’re joking, right?” That earned him even more laughter, which was starting to make her breathing ragged again. He watched her fight to calm herself down before she could speak again. 

“Of course I’m joking, you Nerfherder,” Carrie answered. “I’m fifty-nine years old. I can’t get pregnant anymore, but it really is funny to see us in this situation. I don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this scenario over the years. Far too many.”

“Carrie,” he hedged, apprehensive of where she’s going to take this conversation and still feeling immensely guilty. 

“Us in a hospital room, me gripping your hand and cursing and screaming that I hate you because it’s all your fault even though you’re just trying to comfort me throughout the whole thing, but then it’s all worth it as we meet our little baby girl or boy…” Her words trailed off and he reached out a hand across Gary to grab one of hers that were resting in her lap. 

“I wish I could still give that to you,” he admitted quietly. He remembered her heartbreak all those years ago when she had miscarried. How they’d talked endlessly after that and she’d confided in him about how much she wanted a child. How she’d brought it up again once in awhile and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to make her wish come true. How she’d been ecstatic when she’d had Billie and subsequently crushed when Bryan had left her and she was once again robbed of “playing house” as she had put it. 

“I wish you could, too,” came her reply, just as quiet and truthful as his admission had been. He squeezed her hand and then let go, choosing instead to wrap her in his arms and pull her loosely against his chest, the dog between them creating some difficulties. Gary didn’t appear to be a fan of being squished between the two humans and promptly jumped back down onto the floor, laying at Carrie’s feet. Harrison took the opportunity to pull her tighter against him now, reminiscent of the way he had held her last night, and once again placed a kiss to the top of her head as he often did. 

“We would have had a girl,” he began. “The labor would have been long and intense, but I would have held you, let you lean back against my chest, let you squeeze the shit out of my hands and call me any name in the book if it helped you cope with the pain. You’d tell me we weren’t ever having sex again and I wouldn’t even joke, I’d just say yes, dear, and pray you’d change your mind someday. Then it would be all over and you’d relax back into me as we heard our daughter’s first cries. The nurses would have had to cut the cord because I wouldn’t leave you, but then they’d wrap her in a blanket and bring her over and place her in your arms and I’d feel the most complete I’d ever felt in my life.” 

He felt her shaking again and for a moment he worried she was going to be sick again until he realized that she had started to cry into his chest. Harrison just held her, letting her cry for as long as she needed to. Eventually her cries subsided and her breathing eased to a more normal level for her current state of health. “I will regret not giving you that for the rest of my life, Carrie, but I meant what I said earlier.” 

Harrison certainly hadn’t expected for her to pull away from him at his words, but that was exactly what she did. He felt the absence of her as soon as she moved back and he knew his eyes showed his confusion as he watched her stand. Gary though jumped to his feet, ready to follow her anywhere. As the small dog assumed his standard position, Harrison heard her sigh heavily and watched as she looked down at Gary, instead of at him as she spoke. “I can’t do this, Harrison, it’s me who can’t go there with you anymore.” Had she looked at him she would have seen the hurt settling into his features, but he was not given the courtesy of her gaze. “You should leave as I said before. Really, like I told you, I’ll be fine on my own I promise.” 

At this point, she had already started walking towards her bedroom, Gary at her heels. When she reached the archway that connected the two living spaces, she glanced back at him, and something in his demeanor must have tipped her off that he had no intention of leaving. “Okay, don’t leave then, but I’m going to lie down for a while. Please don’t follow me, I just need to be alone right now,” she pleaded, and he watched her turn and walk into the room, leaving him dumbfounded on the sofa. 

A few minutes later Harrison could hear her cries echoing from her bedroom into the living room and it took all his willpower to abide by her request and not rush into the room after her. He vowed to himself then that If Carrie wanted space he would do his best to respect that, unless he thought she was getting sick again or was in any type of physical danger. Harrison was immensely thankful that the main rooms of her house were an open floor plan and had no doors, a fact which would allow him to hear and see if she needed him. Currently though, he admitted to himself, she did not, and she really didn’t want him, the latter realization hurting even more than the former.

He sighed and forced himself to lean back, closing his eyes as his head rested against the back of the sofa. His heart again screamed at him to follow her; he ached to be with her, to comfort her as she wept, but instead he remained in the living room, unsure if the love he had counted on from her for nearly forty years had finally reached its limit, just as he had finally admitted his love had none.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty chapter ahead. You've been warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I have attempted to write a bipolar episode. I do not have manic depression and neither does my betaer Cori, but we have done some cursory research and attempted to get this as close to what we think might be true for Carrie. I am not claiming that this is exactly how it would go, it’s just my best guess.

Harrison awoke a couple hours later, stiff from having fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch. His face felt strange and he realized the salt from his tears had stained his skin. He hadn’t been able to help himself from crying as he’d listened to Carrie’s own cries wafting through the house and to his ears. But then he, exhausted from the past thirty hours or so, had eventually fallen asleep when her cries had quieted, presumably because she’d fallen asleep as well. 

Now though, Harrison cursed himself for allowing his body to succumb to its tiredness when she could have needed him. He stood up and stretched a bit before walking toward her bedroom. As he neared the door he could see that she was in fact sleeping, Gary snoring at her side. Normally he would have smiled at the sight, as it was one he had been fond of seeing in recent years, but the frown that was set in her face and the fact that she had cried herself to sleep because of him left him with an aching feeling in his chest. 

Harrison sighed and turned away from the door, walking back to sit on the couch again. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his head falling into his hands. How had they gotten here? He’d only told her the truth that he knew she’d been wanting to hear for years and now they were near a total and final collapse of their nearly forty year romance. He rubbed his hands across his face wearily and leant back into the sofa. He had to fix this somehow. Fix the last four decades in place, really. He would do it though, even if she was resisting him. She was the love of his life and he wasn’t going to give up on them now. 

His eyes flitted about the room as he considered how he was going to go about repairing this. As they swept over a book shelf across the room, he noticed a picture in a frame sitting on top of it. He had to smile despite the sadness he felt in that moment. The picture had been taken a few years ago and it’s three occupants had smiles on their faces that truly expressed how happy and carefree they had been feeling in the moment, himself standing so tall in the middle, arms wrapped around Carrie and Billie. Harrison’s eyes widened. _Shit_ , he thought, _Billie doesn’t know._

Carrie’s daughter had been traveling and so Harrison was almost positive that Carrie wouldn’t have called her, not wanting to bother her daughter on her trip. And if Carrie had requested the doctor call him, then he guessed that’s all the lackluster physician had thought to do in between bouts of negligence. _Damn it_.He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled to Billie’s number. She deserved to know that her mother was ill and he felt guilty he hadn’t thought to tell her earlier, though he knew Carrie would have protested and still probably would when she found out. Harrison pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear, hearing it ring three times before he heard the voice of the young woman he basically considered a daughter greet him. 

“Hey, Harrison.”

“Hi, Sweetie,” he answered back. “I hope your trip is going well, but I wanted to call and let you know that your mom has pneumonia. She was in the hospital yesterday-” 

Billie cut him off. “I know.” Her tone was flat and lacked the warmth that her greeting had held. 

“You know?” Maybe the idiot doctor had called her after all. 

“Well, Mom put it on Twitter.”

Harrison couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She must have snuck phone time while he had gone to retrieve Debbie. “Of course she did. Listen, Billie, I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I would have called, but I was just trying to make sure she was okay and I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.” He hoped she could hear the sincerity of his apology.

“It’s okay, Harrison. I didn’t check my feed until late last night or I would have been on my way home sooner, but I got a flight back home this morning and I just left the airport like fifteen minutes ago so I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she told him.

“Alright, see you soon,” he said.

“Bye.” 

He tapped the screen to end the call and then put his phone on the side table next to the couch. It wasn’t until he heard the jingling of Gary’s dog tags that he looked up to see that Carrie was awake and standing in the archway between the rooms, the french bulldog sitting at her feet. 

“You called my daughter?” The tone of her voice conveyed exactly how she felt about that decision. 

Harrison gulped. He had hoped she would have continued to sleep through the conversation. That way, when Billie showed up, she wouldn’t have had proof that he had had any part in it. Unluckily for him, he had been caught in the act. “Yes,” he answered tentatively, smart enough to know that he shouldn’t lie about it. He stood up to face her but remained standing near the sofa. They stared at each other across the room. 

“What in the world gave you that brilliant idea? She’s on vacation, Harrison! If I had wanted her to know, I would have called her myself. I didn’t want her worrying about me while she was away, much less ending her trip early to come home. How dare you call her without asking me first?” She coughed, the effort she was putting into her words beginning to affect her breathing.

“First of all, she already knew before I called her. You tweeted about it yesterday, apparently.” This was said with a raised eyebrow. Harrison still couldn’t understand why she liked tweeting so much in the first place, let alone why she felt the need to tell random strangers on the internet that she was in the hospital. “So she was already on her way here. In fact, she’s only about fifteen minutes away because she got a flight home this morning. Second of all, she’s your daughter and she loves you! She has a right to know when you’re this sick. You can’t honestly expect me to believe you wouldn’t want to know if Debbie was this sick. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“You didn’t even ask me!” she exclaimed again, attempting to take in more air than her lungs could hold at the moment which caused her to cough once more. 

“Because I knew this is how you’d react! But she deserved to know, Carrie, and I’m not going to apologize for telling her.” 

“Well, you don’t have the right to decide that. You’re not her father.” Carrie choked out in between coughs. “You chose to be too chickenshit to give me a little girl, remember? We just covered that neat little piece of information earlier this afternoon.”

Her words sliced through him. He had always been close to Billie, ever since she was little. He considered her his own daughter and he knew Carrie knew this. To hear her deny him that tore him apart. “Fuck you,” he ground out. 

Her dry laugh turned into a cough that shook her body, but Harrison could tell she had a retort on the tip of her tongue. When she had caught her breath, she replied, “Well, we certainly did plenty of that, but not without protection, so it’s not like that little fantasy would have happened anyway. You knew how much I wanted a child after my miscarriage, how much I wanted a child with you. _You_ were the one who kept that from happening.”

Her words were venomous, as he knew she had intended, but they were also true. He'd admitted exactly that to himself, though not to her, during their earlier discussion of the topic, and he couldn’t fault her for saying them out loud, no matter how much pain they caused him. He knew they stemmed from the pain he had caused her and though he wanted to continue to be angry, in that moment he couldn’t. 

He sank back down onto the couch. “Sit down. You shouldn’t be standing.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, but he couldn’t help being concerned for her health. Fortunately she listened to him and moved into the living room to sit in the recliner that faced the couch at an angle. Gary trotted after her and sat beside the chair, but he didn’t lay down to go to sleep as he normally would. Instead he was watching Carrie very attentively. Harrison knew the dog could sense her mood shift, as he had been trained to do. 

Her biting words still hung in the air and he took a moment to compose himself before he lifted his head to address her. They were both so absorbed in the moment that neither one of them noticed the door opening and Billie stepping inside. “I’ve made so many mistakes when it comes to us, but I want to fix them. I’m going to fix them. I want to be with you and only you. I love you, Carrie. I love you more than anything.”

She didn’t return his gaze and her answer was cold. “I know. You’ve told me that.” Carrie’s increasingly intense and yet pained tone must have alerted Gary that she was truly upset, as he jumped up into her lap. She placed a hand on the animal’s back, but it appeared to him that she wasn’t really paying attention to the dog.

Harrison started to get angry again. “Yes, I’ve told you multiple times now, I keep saying it, and it’s true. I love you. And I know you love me, too, you’ve told me over the years, but you won’t say it back this time.” 

Carrie finally looked at him then. “Hmm, doesn’t that sound familiar? And like you said so many years ago, me saying that just doesn’t fit the situation well, so I’m going to insist on a dialogue change.”

His jaw clenched and his voice came out loud and rough with anger. “Goddamnit, Carrie. It’s been thirty-six years and we’re _still_ on that?”

“Of course we’re still on that Harrison, because that was the moment I knew you would never want to give me what you’re swearing up and fucking down you can’t live without giving me now,” she yelled back at him. Again, yelling turned out not to be the best decision as her shoulders shook with her newest round of coughs. She clutched at her chest from the pain of coughing so hard and so often. At this point, Gary squirmed on her lap, trying to lick her face which he had been taught as a grounding maneuver. 

The two of them jumped at the sound of a bag hitting the floor of the kitchen. “Hi Mom. Harrison.” They both sprung to their feet, forcing Gary to jump to the floor, and Carrie gasped, the large inhalation of air causing her to have a coughing fit again. Harrison rushed forward and reached out as if to touch her arm in comfort, but Gary barked at him as he came closer and so he stopped short. 

“Hi, Baby,” Carrie whispered through her cough, her voice leveling out more as she went on. “You didn’t have to come home, I’m okay.” 

“Obviously not,” Billie retorted, “In more ways than one.” She glanced between the pair. 

“How much did you hear?” Harrison questioned nervously.

“Oh, everything from you confessing your undying love for my mom onward,” the young woman answered in a casual tone. “It’s not anything I didn’t already know, except how truly shitty you’ve been to her about both your feelings in the process.”

“Billie!” Carrie reprimanded. “Don’t talk to him that way.”

“Why not? I never realized how much he’s hurt you. My whole life, I thought he was the one you were meant to be with. I wanted that for you. Now I see, he’s even worse than the rest, because he’s been breaking your heart for forty years and you’ve continued to be in love with him anyway.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harrison noticed Carrie reach a hand out to steady herself against the wall. He longed to offer her support, but his heart was broken by the words her daughter had just spoken. “Bille,” he started, voice breaking, “I do love your mom, I am in love with her, please believe that. I made some decisions that hurt her a lot, that hurt us both, but I promise that’s going to change now. I just need some time to talk to her, okay? Could you please go down to your Grandma’s for a bit, just until we’ve had-”

“Oh no, I’m not leaving. _You are._ I trusted you, Harrison. You were a father to me, but I see now that you’ve just been leading us on for years. You need to leave, now, and let my mom alone.”

“Billie Catherine, that’s enough!” Gary barked again at her outburst and Harrison’s head snapped to look at Carrie. She was still supporting herself against the wall, but now looked extremely angry, though her admonishment was cut short as she broke into a coughing fit. The rest of her words came out between coughs, but they were no less surprising to him. “I don’t ever want to hear you speak that way to Harrison again, got it? And regardless of what happens between us, Harrison has been and always will be a father to you. Now please do as he asked and go down to your grandmother’s.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Carrie wanted him to stay? She had told him to leave hours ago, had just yelled at him and told him he wasn’t Billie’s father. Now she was telling Billie the opposite and backing him. Harrison was thoroughly confused. 

“Mom!” 

“Just do it, young lady.” Carrie’s words left no room for argument. She must have remembered her dog then, as her gaze lowered to the floor. She looked back up to her daughter and added, “Take Gary with you, too. He’s too upset.”

“No way,” Billie argued. “The whole reason you have him is so he can help you when you have an episode, Mom. You definitely need that right now. I’m not going to take your support system away.”

“I’m just upset, Baby, I’m not having an episode,” Carrie claimed, which Harrison admitted to himself was true for the moment. 

“Billie, I’ve been fighting with your mom since before they had a name for her episodes and I’ve always taken care of her. I promise I won’t let anything happen to her.” He glanced at Carrie, but she wouldn’t look at him yet. 

“Fine, but I don’t like this one bit. I’ve realized that on top of treating her horribly, you aren’t and likely never have been good for my mom’s health,” Billie said cooly. The words were a low blow aimed right at him and Harrison physically staggered backward a step as if she’d actually hit him, his eyes closing from the hurt swallowing him whole.

“Harrison has seen me through some situations I shouldn’t have made it out of. Regardless of what happens here today Billie, I will always trust him with my life and so should you. Your words are cruel and baseless and any apology you ever say to him for this will never be enough. Now go.”

Harrison opened his eyes as her words registered in his mind. Her refutation of her daughter’s pronouncement made it slightly easier to function, but he almost felt frozen. And for someone who lived his life focused on staying calm, reserved, and sure even in the toughest situations, that feeling alone gave him the sense that the world was caving in on him.

Amid his agony, Harrison still caught the withering glare the young blonde shot his way as she walked forward, scooped up the dog, then turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. The two of them were left standing there, the atmosphere heavy with what had just transpired. He couldn’t move, just stood there staring at the door. 

He was out of it, lost in his own misery. He didn’t even register Carrie moving off of the wall and toward him until he felt her tentatively touch his arm. He still couldn’t look at her though. 

“Harrison, I-” Her voice was a hoarse whisper that punctured the harsh silence of the room. “I-” 

Harrison ripped his arm from her grasp. “I need a minute,” he said gruffly. He looked at her then and registered the guilt and sorrow written all over her face, but it didn’t help, couldn’t touch the hole in his heart. “Just… give me a minute. Sit down and I’ll be back.” He didn’t wait for a response. He just left her standing in the kitchen and walked into her bedroom, needing to be alone for just a moment, to understand how everything he had counted on in his life had just been ripped away. 

He was angry. How could the young woman whom he considered his own daughter say such things to him? She had told him that he was harmful to Carrie’s health. Was he? He had never given her what she really wanted, a life lived with him in every way. _Did that make him bad for her?_ he wondered. He wanted to scream in anguish at the thought, but he was trying to restrain himself for her benefit. _Fuck this house and its lack of doors_ , he thought, then instantly regretted thinking it. He knew very well why there weren’t any doors and he was thankful for it every day. 

Still, he wished he could get his anger out somehow. Maybe he should have gone outside instead of retreating into her bedroom. _Damn it!_ He picked up her hairbrush and threw it against the wall, the loud crack of it snapping giving him a sense of satisfaction. He then sank down onto the corner of her bed and cradled his head in his hands, hot tears springing to his eyes and rolling down his face before he could stop them. 

Harrison knew though that he needed to get control of his emotions. He knew that what Billie had said wasn’t true. He thought back over the last forty years, over all they had been through. He had been there for Carrie through _everything_ life had thrown her way, battling with her against her addiction and mental illness during filming, going so far as to mouth her lines back to her when she had what they later learned was bipolar disorder induced memory lapses, then supporting her through her overdose and miscarriage and psychotic breaks, helping her remember things after her electroshock therapy. He’d been by her side for all of it. He wasn’t going to stop now, despite the pain he was feeling. She still needed him while she was sick, needed him forever really, he knew, and he had promised he wouldn’t leave her. That was true, no matter what, but he had to be honest with himself, too. As much as he wanted to be completely emotionally in control right now, he wasn’t. He needed a moment longer to compose himself, to make sure he could push his hurt down far enough to where he would be able to focus on her again and help her recover from the pneumonia, if she’d let him. 

A few minutes later, he took a shaky breath and swiped a hand across his face, closing his eyes. Despite him continuing to give himself time, the pain wasn’t receding at all, regardless of how hard he was trying to force it to. He’d essentially just lost a daughter. Billie had made that quite apparent and Carrie herself had told him that he wasn’t Billie’s father, despite her words to the contrary later. He wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with this loss of Billie from his life, not to mention the complete devastation he would feel if he were to lose Carrie, too. The thought alone was unbearable and he let out a sob, not noticing the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. He would have continued to cry if he hadn’t heard the noise that came after which set every nerve ending in his body on high alert. His head snapped up and, though the sound was faint, he could still hear it: the sound of pills rattling in their container. 

Harrison leapt to his feet. “Carrie, stop!,” he yelled, rushing from the bedroom and back into the kitchen. He was too late. As she came into view he observed her lowering the glass of water from her lips and placing it back on the counter. She still had the plastic holder that contained the very large number of pills she took to manage her manic depression in her other hand. She reached into it, ignoring him. “Carrie, give me the pills,” he said evenly, trying to reason with her. 

He was relieved when her hand stopped in its pursuit of another pill, but tensed again when she argued with him. “No!” 

“Give them here, Sweetheart,” Harrison tried again, moving toward her this time. That was the wrong thing to do, as she took off in the other direction, taking the pills with her. He went after her. “Carrie!”

“I need them, Harrison!” Carrie shouted, continuing to run through her house and away from him. “I don’t want to have an episode. I’m starting to feel like my thoughts are racing and I just can’t have one right now, this already hurts so much. Adding an episode on top of it, I just can’t….I’m tired, I just want to sleep, but if I have one I won’t… please, I’m not trying to… I just don’t have the strength to be manic right now, and I feel fucking depressed as fuck already naturally at the moment.”

Running with pneumonia while saying so much at one time caught up with her and she finally stopped, chest heaving with each forceful cough. This gave Harrison the opportunity to take the medication container from her without protest as she was still in her fit of coughs. He walked back to the kitchen and put the plastic container on a high shelf where he knew she wouldn’t be able to reach it without assistance. 

“Harrison.” He heard her whine as she finally managed to stop coughing and follow him into the kitchen. “I need them! I need more!” 

_More? How many had she taken?_ “Carrie, how many did you take?” She’d already taken her daily dose of everything at the hospital that morning. If she’d taken too many pills now before he’d stopped her… 

“Only one,” Carrie complained, pouting. “Then you caught me and I had to stop, but I want-” Her face was losing color again and her eyes widened as they had earlier in the day. He watched her try to keep it down, but the rest of what she had been about to say was forgotten as she doubled over, throwing up onto the tile of the kitchen floor. He heard her whimper before she leaned over again, her stomach continuing to force her to expel its contents. 

As much as her whimpering tore at his heart, Harrison had never been more happy to see someone throw up in his life. If she’d only taken one pill and had just thrown it up then he could relax and not worry about her overdosing on too much of her bipolar medication.

Carrie finished throwing up and wiped her mouth. “Shit. Now there’s fucking puke on the floor. I’m a mess. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up.” Her words came quickly and Harrison could tell she was agitated. In fact, she had been speaking rather quickly ever since he had found her with the pills. A clear sign that she was already in the midst of a manic episode. 

“It’s not a problem, I’ll clean it up,” he told her. Luckily she kept cleaning supplies in the cabinet under her sink and he was already kneeling down to retrieve them. He pulled out a rag and the cleaning spray and went to work cleaning up the bile on the floor. He kept glancing at her legs every few seconds, however, to reassure himself she was still standing there, though he was aware of her presence anyway on an innate level he’d never been able to quite explain. 

He tried to work quickly, and he mostly succeeded. It only took him a couple minutes to clean the floor. He stood and threw the rag into the kitchen trash can, replaced the cleaning spray back in the cabinet, and began washing his hands. 

No sooner had he begun rinsing the soap off of them and she was gone, running into her bedroom. “Damn it,” he growled, turning off the water and wiping his hands on his jeans as he hurried off after her. He found her in her room, coughing from her latest bout of physical activity, her hands shaking as she tried to pull a cigarette from a box. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “You have pneu-mon-ia,” he said, accentuating each syllable of the word as he walked over to her and gently took the box of cigarettes from her hand. “You shouldn’t be smoking so many of these things anyway, I told you that already today, after I had to carry you.”

Carrie laughed. “This coming from the Marlboro Man,” she goaded, her voice falling into a sing-song on her nickname for him, though it wasn’t her usual rich singing voice as she was still coughing, and the taunt held none of the affection it had had when she’d used it earlier that day. “Besides, they calm me down,” she whined. 

“Hey, can you imagine it?” Carrie then asked, out of the blue, before he could reply to her jab, not responding to him and not following her last train of thought at all, thus thoroughly confusing Harrison as to what she was talking about. “We could have had our own sitcom. Just imagine how funny that would have been. Our relationship played out on screen for everyone to see. We’d be perfect, a couple and a kid and a dog, we even have the dog! Just think of it, Harry, Carrie, Billie, and Gary, we’d be a hit!” 

Harrison let her talk, knowing that interrupting her might just make it worse. He continued to hold her arms though, trying to at least ground her to the present, to him. 

“We’d be great, they’d root for us everywhere.” She laughed, but it ended on a sob. “Imagine how crushed everyone would be when it ended and you left me. You’re going to leave me. How could you leave me? But then again, how could I ever hope that you would really love me, really stay, that’s not meant for me.”

He couldn’t help but try to intervene now. If he could make her understand that he wasn’t leaving, perhaps he could bring her through what he could now tell was what the damn doctors called a “mixed episode, with entwining bouts of mania and depression hitting her at sometimes second intervals.” Or, barring getting her through it right now, he hoped he could at least make it easier for her to cope with the episode, as he knew a trigger for her was stress and/or emotional pain and they’d certainly had plenty of both the last few days. “I’m not leaving, Carrie.” Harrison would repeat this over and over if he had to in order to convince her. “I’m not leaving you.” 

“If I let myself believe you, you’re going to hurt me. One day you’re going to decide you made the wrong decision and you’re going to leave, just like you always do. Well I guess you don’t really leave, you always come back, but if you try to stay for real you’re going to realize how much you hate it, how crazy I am. Hell, I’m crazy right now. I’m just waiting for you to call me insane and walk out the door. I know you fucking hate me now after the fight we just had and what my daughter said to you. There’s no way I can let myself believe that you’re going to stay. I know you wish you had never even met me. Your life would be way better without me in it.” Her words came rapidly despite her breathing problems.

Harrison’s heart broke even more. He wanted to refute her words, to tell her that she wasn’t crazy and of course he didn’t hate her and that she was the most important person in his life, that he loved her so very much, but in her state she might interpret that much disagreement as arguing, which would prolong the episode. Not to mention he was still in the midst of his own pain at the moment and was struggling to distance himself from that. Hashing this out now would not help either of them 

She continued to cough through her words and he began to worry as he watched her body shaking severely, struggling to remain standing. It was obvious that her running around her house with pneumonia had not just been bad idea, it was now going to make her even sicker. He reacted out of fear for her safety, his concern for her overriding the hurt he was experiencing. He used some of the last of his emotional strength and pushed his agonized feelings to the side for the moment and let the overwhelming love he had for her take over. He reached his arm out to circle her waist and he felt her lean into him immediately. 

“Alright, come on, let’s get you sitting down before you fall over,” he said, turning her to guide her to sit on her bed. He removed his arm from her waist so she could sit down and was surprised when she grabbed it and shook her head no. 

“Hold me.” The whispered request shot straight to his heart, but he didn’t make a move to do so.

“No,” Harrison rasped out, the word tearing at his heart. He hated denying her anything, but this was one time where he just couldn’t bring himself to do as she requested. “If I hold you and comfort you and put my heart out there again, you’ll go and toss my love and affection away like you always do when you can’t handle shit. Just like your daughter just did. I told you I was ready to commit, Carrie, and it scared the fuck out of you. Well too fucking bad, either you want me for real or you don’t. As you’ve told me for forty years, it’s that simple, and you were right, it always has been for both of us. Yet, we’re here hurting more so than we ever have, instead of finally healing, and I’m just so lost. So no, as much as I love you, I can’t hold you right now. I still can’t really be near you right now. Just stay here, don’t move from where I can see you. I’m going to go sit in the living room.” Harrison turned and walked out of the room, feeling her eyes watching him as he left her alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here have a band aid for your heart.

Harrison sighed. From his seat in the living room he heard hear her crying again, but unlike earlier in the day it was he who had forced their separation and not Carrie. Though he had taken a moment before, this felt different and he knew it did to her as well. Part of him yearned to go comfort her, to apologize for yelling, especially while she was having a manic depressive episode, but the other part of him, a larger part of him, was still pissed off and deeply hurt by everything she and Billie had said to him.

Her sobs then turned to coughs and yet he still remained on her couch. He wasn’t going to give in this time, no matter how awful her coughing sounded, which was turning out sound pretty awful. It was the longest coughing fit she’d had yet, which was likely due to the fact that she had been sobbing so hysterically. The temptation to go back to her became greater and greater as Harrison listened to her hacking her lungs out in the other room, but it wasn’t until he heard a loud thump from the bedroom that he decided to act on it. 

He jumped up and ran to her bedroom. Carrie was curled up on the floor, one hand clutching her back, the other her chest. It was the sight of the love of his life in utter torment that finally chipped through the hard wall he had tried to put up. She looked up at him with a pained expression and miserably admitted, while still coughing, “I pulled a muscle in my fucking back from coughing so hard, and the coughing is just killing my chest.” 

Harrison leaned over and, placing his hands under her arms, beginning to lift her as gently as he could to a standing position. His heart clenched as she screamed in pain at the movement. “Stop! It hurts.”

“I have to get you off the floor, Carrie. I’m sorry, but it’s not the best position for you to breathe in,” Harrison said, pulling her the rest of the way up even as she cried out in pain again. When he had stood her up, he removed his hands from her, but she wasn’t having it. She beseeched him again with her request from only ten minutes ago, her voice just as soft and broken as it had been then, only with the added pain from her chest and back apparent in her voice. “Harrison, please, hold me.”

“I’ll hold you forever,” Harrison told her softly. He very tenderly wrapped his arms around her, trying not to agitate her back in the process. Something in her voice had broken through his anguish and he was back in that place of unquestionable love. 

“Harrison,” she cried out, the anguish in her voice apparent to him as he must have moved her in a way that hurt. “Harrison, I can’t deal with the pain.” His arms tightened around her slightly as he pulled her into his chest, the two of them just standing in her bedroom. 

“Shhh, Honey, I’m right here. I’ve got you. You can do this.” He felt her body start to shake against his and heard the gasping breaths she took as she began to sob again. He then felt her arms rise to his lower back to grip the material of his t-shirt in tight fists. 

“I can’t,” she protested, and Harrison could feel her trying to shake her head against his chest. “It hurts so much, Harrison. I can’t do it,” she gasped out, her breath coming in pants. 

He just held her, his hands rubbing in large circles over her shoulder blades, ever mindful of the pain in her lower back. “Carrie, you’re going to get through this. _We’re_ going to get through this. I promise. I know it hurts. I’m so sorry.”

“Harrison,” she cried again, choking on his name. “Please don’t leave me. I need you. I can’t live without you. I don’t know what I would do. You can’t leave me. You can’t.” Her words came as fast as her breath and coughing would allow and he took a step back, hands grabbing her arms to focus her. 

“Carrie, look at me,” Harrison instructed. She did, and he could see her eyes were wild with fear and pain. “Look at me,” he repeated, his voice low and firm. “I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you, Sweetheart. I promise. You have me forever.” He tugged her towards himself again, this time wrapping one arm around her back, his large hand splaying far across it, his other hand winding into her hair as he pressed her head into his chest. 

Carrie shook and shook against his chest, her cries and coughs breaking off tiny pieces of his heart as they echoed throughout the otherwise silent room. He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, his whole being was focused on holding her, loving her . Eventually he became aware that Carrie’s body had become progressively more substantial in his arms as she continued to cry and Harrison noticed that at some point he had moved the hand that had been tangled in her hair to her back in order to support her body weight. She was completely slumped into him, the exhaustion of everything that had happened, and the physical pain from being sick and injuring her back, had drained her.

Harrison shifted to support her better while still avoiding as much of her lower back as he could and he caught her attention. He felt her move her head back from his chest so she could look up at him. She didn’t say anything, but seemed to need to hold his gaze. Carrie’s eyes were wide, pooled with tears that were still running down her face. Harrison looked down and met her gaze with his own, trying to convey all the love he felt for her. 

She was shaking harder now and he knew it was from more than just the crying and coughing. Her body couldn’t tolerate being upright anymore as sick as she was. He didn’t want to say anything to upset her, but he was quickly coming to the realization that she needed to sit . “Carrie, I know it hurts to move, but you have to sit down now. I’ll hold you, but there is no way you can stand up anymore.”

“It’s going to hurt,” she whispered defeatedly. 

Harrison gently guided her to the side of her bed and perched her on the edge before he sat down himself, propping some pillows behind his back, and settling against the headboard. She climbed into his lap as he did so, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain, and settled between his legs. When she had, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back tight against his chest, trying to minimize the amount of space she could move in order to keep her from disturbing the pulled muscle in her back. The two of them then just sat for a few minutes, the only sound coming from her as she continued to cry. Harrison just held her, not wanting to push. Eventually she broke the silence. 

“Oh my God, Harrison, I…” Carrie started. “I didn’t mean any of the harsh things I said. Fuck. I hate it when you see me like this.”

“That’s not you, Carrie. I know who you are.” Harrison was relieved that she seemed to have calmed, come back to herself, her episode at least allowing her some coherence while he held her. Carrie’s cries grew harder again, and she shook in his arms. “Shh, it’s okay. You are _not_ crazy. I am not going to leave you.”

“You have a multitude of reasons to leave after everything that’s happened today. About the thing with Billie… I’m so sorry, Harrison, she was so awful to you and all you’ve ever done is love her as if she were your own daughter. And earlier I told you that you aren’t her father, what a terrible thing of me to say. I’m so sorry,” Carrie choked out between her sobs. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s going to be all right,” he whispered into her hair, squeezing her even tighter. “I’m here, I’m not ever leaving. You’re going to be okay.” She continued to sob and started to wheeze, not able to get enough air into her diseased lungs while crying so hard and for such a long time. “Carrie, you have to calm down, Sweetheart,” he stressed, sitting up straighter and pushing her with him so that she was in a better position to breathe. “You’ve been crying for ages.” Harrison removed his arms from around her chest, not wanting to constrict her. “Deep breaths,” he advised. 

Carrie’s hands squeezed his legs as she struggled through her emotions, trying to calm her breathing as he had instructed her. Her grip was so tight, her fingernails pressing hard into the material of his jeans. He felt her attempt to take in a deep breath, but it hitched and she whimpered. “I can’t, Harrison,” she declared. “My chest, my back, this whole day, it all hurts too much.”

“You can do it, Sweetheart,” he encouraged, placing his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down to soothe her. “Just breathe with me.” 

“No.” Carrie’s reply was short, her breath still coming in pants. She had stopped sobbing, but there were still tears rolling down her face. “It hurts so much,” she whined. His hands continued their ministrations on her arms, trying to find a way to get her through the pain. “Harrison!” she cried out, her physical pain seemingly increasing as she struggled to breathe in a way that terrified him, and her fingernails pressed into his thighs again and causing him to wince. He knew he couldn’t panic though and couldn’t be as uncomfortable as he had been when she’d had issues on their walk, she needed him and he was going to provide. 

Acting on sheer spousal-like instinct from a place he couldn’t quite seem to name Harrison removed his hands from her arms and brought them down to hers. “Take my hands,” he instructed, pulling hers from his legs and allowing her to wrap her smaller hands around his. “We are going to breathe together and you’re going to squeeze my hands as hard as you want when it hurts. I’m going to count to six and you’re going to breathe in on one, two, three, and out on four, five, six. And you’re gonna purse your lips while you do it like you do for all the pictures you take these days. Here we go.” He inhaled and when he felt her take a breath in, began counting, “One, two, three.” She squeezed, hard, blowing the breath out right away as he let his out slowly and counted, “four, five, six.” 

He waited a minute, then said as he took a breath, “Again. One, two, three.” She inhaled with him and squeezed again, even harder. “Four, five, six,” he counted moments later. This time she managed to exhale for one count before releasing it all. 

“Harrison,” she moaned again. “I don’t want to do this. It hurts too much.” 

“I know it does, Baby.” They did another breath, Harrison counting again, “One, two, three, four, five, six.” As before she was able to last a little longe, exhaling through both four and five now. “You can do this. I love you so much.” Again he took a deep breath, “One, two, three” and exhaled “four, five, six.” He then took another breath and another until she began to calm and match her breathing to his. “That’s right, just like that. Keep breathing.” 

He felt her still continue to squeeze his hands somewhat with each subsequent breath after that. However, he realized she was likely trying to spare him from hard squeezes now that she was more able to be aware. He didn’t want that though, he wanted to take away her pain, to exchange it for his own. “It’s okay, Sweetheart, keep squeezing my hands as much as you want. That way I can’t fly for a while, and we all know you’ve had enough of my bouncing skills. So, it’s a win-win for you: you get to be pain free and I won’t be able to test them out anymore.”

“I could never ask you to truly give up flying,” Carrie admitted, “but if I can buy some time when I don’t have to worry about you crashing again, I’ll take it.” She emphasized the statement with a particularly strong squeeze to his hands as she took another deep breath.

“That’s my princess,” Harrison cheekily praised, pleased that she wasn’t dulling the intensity of her squeezes anymore. They went through a few more breathing cycles, Harrison continuing to count to six each time, and when her breathing had finally evened out as much as it could for someone with pneumonia and who was still crying, he leaned back again, taking his hands back from hers and replacing his arms across her chest.

“I was joking about this topic earlier,” she said softly a moment later, “But I actually think your beautiful labor fantasy, the one that was so sweet it made me take off on you, just came true,” she observed. “Here I am, propped against your chest and you’re talking me through breathing techniques after we’ve just been fighting. Add the baby and I’d say that’s pretty much how it would have gone. We even had the excruciating pain, and me refusing to do what you asked.” She laughed a little, tenderly, the sound still laced with tears. 

He squeezed her tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry you are in pain, Honey, but I’m glad that, if only for a moment, I was able to experience what it would have been like to bring you that kind of comfort. And Carrie, our current situation might not be the way we would have wanted it, but we do have Billie, and I swear I’m going to make sure you and that little girl at Debbie’s are always safe in my arms.” He heard her breathing start to change again and another sob break through, and so he leaned forward once more in case they had to do the same process again. 

“This is real, Sweetheart. I’m ready to make this a more permanent thing. I love you. And like I said a little while ago, you said it back to me last night, but now that I’ve upped the ante and told you that I want to be a firmer presence in your life, you won’t say it. Why?”

Carrie heaved a few sobs, but it seemed she was able to control herself better this time as she didn’t begin to choke. “Harrison, I… I said it first, you know, way back when and you’d say it back sometimes. Even over the years we’ve still said it occasionally, but we’ve never actually ended up together. Now, you’ve told me over and over that you love me and you’re choosing me.” He held his breath, unsure of where she was headed and praying that they weren’t about to take another step backwards. “I’m afraid, even after last night when I said I wasn’t, I...,” she said, pausing before continuing with firm resolve, “No, I _was_ afraid. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, to let myself believe that maybe you were finally serious and telling the truth, but…” She paused. “I can tell that you truly are this time. You’ve been proving it to me since the moment you came to my side yesterday and you haven’t left. I know now that you really do love me, and… I…” 

Harrison waited for her to finish and the words didn’t come. She was still crying, and he released the breath he’d been holding. “I know.” He did know. She was finally telling him what he’d wanted to hear since he’d first told her this morning that he loved her and wanted to be with her. He raised a hand and used a thumb to wipe at her tears, brushing them tenderly from her face. He gently turned her face to the side and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a sweet kiss that expressed all the love he felt for her. 

When they pulled apart, she pressed her face into his neck, and he leaned back, pulling her tightly against him again. It was enough. The crack in his heart had started to mend. They both knew now, even if she hadn’t said the words. 

But she was full of surprises and he felt her breath against his skin as she whispered, “I love you, Harrison. I love you so much.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Cori for being an amazing beta and support system while writing this. She always has the best ideas and I couldn't do this without her. Also, note the rating change. Carrison sex ahead.

The two of them sat for a few minutes, relishing in this new understanding between them. Harrison’s head rested atop hers, her face still snugly pressed into his neck. He was pleased that her breathing had finally evened out the best it could and hoped he could keep it that way. He hugged her gently, mindful not to move her too much lest he aggravate the muscle in her back. He felt her breath on his neck again as she sighed in contentment and he placed a kiss to her hair. 

He glanced to her bedside table and caught sight of the clock sitting there, telling him it was already nearing nine o’clock. While that wasn’t necessarily late, they had had a rather long and tiring day and he himself was already feeling tired despite the nap he’d taken that afternoon. He knew Carrie needed sleep as well in order to recover. He didn’t want to break this comfortable silence between them, but she needed to take her evening round of pneumonia antiobiotics. “It’s time to take your antibiotic,” Harrison informed her, slowly easing his arms from around her. 

Carrie moaned and pushed her face farther into his neck in defiance and he had to let out a small chuckle. “You’re gonna need something in your stomach to take it with, too,” he added thoughtfully, “I’ll make you some toast.” The two of them hadn’t really eaten all day, a fact which his stomach decided to remind him of right then. “And some for myself, too, apparently.” He smiled as he felt her timid laugh and hugged her one more time before he slowly pushed her forward a bit so that he could shimmy out from behind her. He frowned at her small gasps of pain at the movement. “Maybe you could also use some Tylenol.” 

Harrison finally managed to extract himself from behind her completely and stood beside the bed. As gently as he could, he lifted her backward the tiniest bit and propped her up against the headboard with a few pillows behind her back to support her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with all of that, sweetheart,” he said softly, leaning in to give her a kiss on the forehead. He stood back to his full height and was about to turn to leave when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway. _Who in the world is in the house? How didn’t we hear anyone? Well, I guess we were pretty preoccupied to be fair._ These were his thoughts as he quickly turned around to face the doorway, only to find Billie standing there. 

He wasn’t capable of saying anything for a moment, his earlier anger rushing back in at the harsh things the young woman had said to him earlier. _What the fuck is she doing here? We told her to leave. Damn child can’t follow any directions. She--_ His mental tirade was interrupted as Carrie’s voice permeated his angry haze. 

“Billie, what are you doing here?” Harrison watched Billie nervously shift her weight from one foot to the other from her place in the doorway. _Good,_ he thought, _at least she has the decency to look sheepish._

“I’m sorry, Mom, I...,” Billie started quietly, and Harrison rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Carrie. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were so upset before and I needed to see for myself that you were okay.”

Before Carrie could reply, Harison beat her to it, “Well as you can see, she’s doing pretty well at the moment. I’ve got it under control.” 

Billie cleared her throat again and glanced away almost awkwardly. “Uh, yes, I see… uh... saw that. Harrison, I-”

Harrison was still trying to process what Billie had just revealed, but Carrie cut off her daughter before she could continue. “You saw what? Billie, how long were you watching?” He could hear the panic rising in her voice again, after he’d just managed to calm her down, and he would be damned if he let her daughter ruin all the progress they’d just made. 

He glanced back to Billie and noticed she was reluctant to answer. “Your mother asked you a question,” he growled, though he didn’t know if the answer would really be helpful. Either way, Carrie wasn’t going to be mollified until she knew the truth. 

“Um, everything since you sat down on the bed,” Billie whispered, unable to meet either Carrie or Harrison’s eyes. 

Harrison’s eyes widened and he glanced at Carrie to see her response, pleased to see that she actually seemed relieved. He figured she had been worried that her daughter had seen her in her manic state and heard the things she’d said then, even though Harrison knew that wasn’t possible since he would have seen her when he’d left Carrie in the bedroom. But he knew her thoughts weren’t entirely clear at the moment and was glad that she wasn’t getting worked up again. He grabbed her hand closest to him and gave it a gentle squeeze, holding it in his own as he turned his head back to look at her daughter.

Billie was finally looking at them again and attempted to start over with whatever she had been about to say. “Harrison, I-” 

“If you saw all of that then I don’t know what else can prove to you how much I love your mother,” he spoke over her. 

“I know, Harrison, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of what I said earlier, I was just worried for mom and,” Billie rambled, speaking quickly so as not to be interrupted again, he assumed. 

“Save it, Billie. I don’t want to hear it right now,” he said harshly, his anger still fueling his emotions. 

“But, Harrison, I… you just claimed me as your own daughter, even after all the downright disgusting things I said to you even though you’ve always been a father to me. I’m so, so sorry.” Billie’s voice broke as she finished speaking and Harrison took a deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes for a minute at her words. When he opened them he looked straight at her, more calm, but still angry. 

“Billie, I’m so pissed at you right now that I just want to scream,” he began, feeling Carrie squeeze his hand tightly. “But, I love you so much. I always have and I always will, no matter how much you hurt my feelings. That’s what a father does,” he whispered, returning Carrie’s squeeze. “However, if you stay here any longer, I really might start yelling and that’s not good for your mother right now, so I’m going to calmly and politely as I can insist that you go back to your grandmother’s for the night.” 

“Okay,” the young woman whispered, but instead of turning and leaving she stepped into the room. Harrison shot her a glare. _Was she really going to defy him after he’d just warned her how angry he was?_ She caught his glare and faltered a moment, “I just want to give Mom a hug.” 

“Fine,” he reluctantly agreed. No matter how angry he was, he could never deny Carrie love from her only child. Billie must have still heard the warning tone in his voice, though, as it took her mother saying “Come here, Baby,” for her to actually approach them. Harrison let go of Carrie’s hand so they could hug properly. His heart warmed at the way Carrie’s face showed just how much she loved her daughter as they embraced. 

When they disconnected, Billie moved toward him as if she were going to hug him. He leaned back, stopping her from embracing him. “I can’t yet, Billie, please, just go,” he said, torn in two. He wanted to hug her, he loved her, but there was an overwhelming part of him that was still so upset, so hurt, that he couldn’t bring himself to return her affection in that moment. 

Billie nodded and turned around, beginning to make her way back towards the doorway. “Your mother and I love you very much,” Harrison began, not looking at her lest she turned back around to look at him. “We’ll see you in the morning. You can bring Gary back then.” She must have registered the dismissive tone in his voice, for when he did look toward the doorway again she had gone. Undistracted this time, they both heard the sound of the door closing a few seconds later as Billie left the house. 

Harrison felt Carrie squeeze his hand again and he looked back at her. There were a few silent tears running down her cheeks and he gently brushed them away. He was surprised when she did the same, not having noticed that he himself was crying. “We… I… don’t deserve you, Harrison.” 

“You deserve the world,” he replied fiercely, staring straight into her eyes, hoping to convince her as much as he was convinced himself. He was rewarded with a small smile on her part and he pressed a kiss to her forehead for a second time in a few minutes. Pulling back, he took his hand back from hers and stood again. “Okay, you really do need to eat and take some medicine. I’ll be back. Just relax for a few minutes.” She nodded and he turned, leaving the bedroom to go make them some toast, more reassured that it was okay to leave her alone for a few minutes now.

He walked to the kitchen and found the bread on the counter, putting a couple of slices into the toaster. While he waited for it to be done, he poured her a glass of water and readied her pneumonia medicine and two tylenol for her back. The toaster dinged and he retrieved the two pieces of toasted bread, putting them onto a plate and buttering them. He stuck two more pieces of bread in the toaster for himself and waited until they were done as well, following the same routine of plating and buttering them. He placed the pills on the side of her plate, balanced the two plates in one hand and grabbed the glass of water with the other before leaving the kitchen and walking back to her bedroom. Fortunately he found her just as he had left her. 

“Here you go, sweetheart. Medicine and food, just what you like,” Harrison joked, a huge grin spreading across his face at the glare he received for his comment. 

“If you weren’t being so nice to me right now, I’d hit you.” He laughed and sat down next to her again, placing the glass on a coaster on her night stand so he could use both hands to hold the plates now. He handed one to her and kept the other for himself. 

“I know how much you like your pills, but food first,” he ordered, still joking with her, knowing it would hopefully help keep her in a better mood. Plus, she really did need something in her stomach before she took more medication. 

He watched her raise her hand slightly as if to actually hit him, before she sighed and settled for rolling her eyes instead before glaring at him again. “Yes, _Doctor_ Ford,” she sassed, using her raised hand to pick up a piece of toast instead and bite into it, all the while staring him down. 

He laughed and picked up a piece of his own toast. “What a perfect patient you are.” 

Carrie scoffed, “A patient who has a full blown manic depressive episode and then pulls a muscle in her back from crying so hard and almost passes out from hyperventilation. Definitely perfect.” She took another bite of her toast. 

Harrison glanced at her nervously, hoping she wasn’t relapsing back into her episode, but he rolled his own eyes when he found her trying to suppress a smirk as she chewed. The fact she was being her usual sassy self was a sign that she was starting to move in the right direction and he was thankful for that, even if he was the target of said sass. 

“Really, you should get a gold star,” he said, taking another bite of his toast. “I can make you a sticker chart. Takes medication? One star. Doesn’t fuss about it? Two stars. Gives her doctor a kiss for taking such good care of her? Five stars,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at her. This time she did hit him, lightly, on the arm, and he burst out laughing. 

“You really are an insufferable nerfherder sometimes, you know?” Carrie said, glaring at him again as she continued eating her toast. 

“I know,” he smiled, “but you love me anyway.” 

Carrie raised an eyebrow. “Give me the glass of water so I can take these lovely pills and we’ll see about that,” she retorted. 

He glanced at her plate to see she’d eaten one full slice and half of the other. “Okay, but you’re finishing the toast after,” he conceded, grabbing the glass off the nightstand and handing it to her. She took the pills, wincing slightly as she moved, and handed the glass back to him. 

“Come on, finish the toast. Mmmm, so yummy,” Harrison drawled as he finished his own second piece. He was rewarded with another eye roll as she picked up the piece of bread and continued eating. “You know, they’re going to get stuck like that sometime, and then I won’t be able to see those beautiful brown eyes anymore,” he teased with a small pout. It only got him _another_ eye roll and he laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I think if they haven’t gotten stuck after forty years worth of me rolling them at you, my eyes going to be just fine.” 

“Touche,” he replied, still laughing. They both finished their toast and he took her plate from her. “Do you want some more?” he asked, to which he received a negative shake of her head. “Okay, I’m gonna go take these back out to the kitchen and then I’ll be back to help get you ready for bed.” He took her plate from her, but left the glass of water in case she wanted more to drink, and stood from the bed. He quickly took the dishes to the kitchen, locked the door, and returned to her bedroom. 

Harrison moved to her side, but didn’t sit this time. “Let’s get you to the bathroom and then you can change into more comfortable clothes.” She was wearing the clothes she’d worn the day before when she’d gone to the hospital and he was sure she was ready to be out of them. 

Carrie sighed. “Okay, help me up?” She moved her legs to the side of the bed, wincing, and held a hand out to him. Instead of taking her hand, Harrison put his hands under her arms and lifted gently, trying to make the motion easier on her. He then took her hand and led her to the bathroom. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not an invalid, Harrison, I can go to the bathroom myself.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “But I’m waiting outside in case you need me.” He wasn’t going to go far, but she was able to walk around on her own and, he had to admit, most likely able to pee by herself. 

“My hero,” Carrie deadpanned, but he had to laugh when she couldn’t hold her straight face any longer and a smile appeared there instead. 

“Always,” Harrison called behind him as he turned and left her in the bathroom. He walked into her bedroom, as the rooms were connected and he would still be able to hear her if she needed him, and opened the drawer where he knew her pajamas were kept. His heart clenched as he saw one of his own t-shirts folded on top of her own nightgowns and pajama sets. He could hear the faucet running in the background, meaning Carrie must be washing her hands, but he was still caught up in the revelation he’d just made. One hand gripped the drawer while the other smoothed over the material of his shirt. He couldn’t even remember when it had disappeared. 

“Snooping through my clothes, are we? What are you going to choose for me to wear? Something sexy? I don’t know how well I’ll look in any of that, but there are a few prettier nightgowns in the bottom of…” Carrie’s voice trailed off and he felt her approach him. She must have realized something was up when he didn’t react to her words. “Harrison, what is it?” she asked and he felt her hand on his forearm. 

Harrison looked at her then, the hand of the arm she wasn’t touching still on the shirt. “You sleep in my shirt?” he questioned, eyes boring into hers. 

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation, though he could see a slight blush rising in her cheeks. “It’s comfortable and it makes me feel safe when you’re not here.” 

“Oh, my darling Carrie,” he breathed, his arms coming to wrap around her in a hug. He felt her snuggle into him and heard her breathe in deeply. He didn’t know what else to say, but he was incredibly touched and humbled that just his tshirt made her feel good. 

Carrie broke the moment then, clearing her throat and pulling back just a bit. “Alright, Hotshot, don’t get all mushy on me. Besides, it lost your scent a while ago. Maybe I need to steal a new one,” she teased, running her hand over the material of the t-shirt he was wearing now. 

“You can have it,” he said right away. “But I think we can fix the other one, too,” Harrison added, letting go of her and turning back to the drawer to retrieve the other shirt. He pulled it out and pushed the drawer shut, shaking the shirt out so it was unfolded and holding it in front of her with a grin on his face. 

“Mmm, right,” Carrie hummed, smirking at him. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to get me naked?”

He laughed then, perhaps his first real laugh since this had all started yesterday. “As much as I would love that, Honey,” he began, his eyes roaming over her as she stood before him, proving that he would like that very much indeed and making her laugh in the process, “I don’t think your lungs are up for any of that at the moment. Sorry.” 

“What, you’re not into your woman hacking up a lung while having sex and then passing out from not getting enough air?” He only raised an eyebrow in response. “Oh, all right, that’s too bad. Dying from sex with you would be one hell of a way to go, not that I haven’t thought it was going to happen many times before,” she said, laughing, which made her start to cough. Despite the fact she was coughing from being ill, Harrison had to chuckle himself at the fact this was only proving she wasn’t up for such activities right now. 

“Okay, woman, let’s get you changed,” he said, smirking to himself. “Lift your arms for me,” Harrison instructed softly as he took the hemline of her shirt in his hands and began to lift it. He knew the motion would irritate the muscle in her back, but there was no other way to get her shirt off or his on. She did what he asked and he quickly but gently pulled her shirt off her. He lowered her arms just enough that he could pull her bra straps down and the garment off as he undid it, as he’d done hundreds of times before, discarding it with her shirt. 

His eyes never left hers as he raised her arms again and slipped his shirt on over top her head, gently easing her arms into it and pulling it down over her torso as she lowered her arms. She was so short that the bottom of his shirt landed almost at her mid thigh. _It would have been longer if she weren’t so well endowed_ , he thought to himself, but shook his head. He was not going to think about that right now, as tempting as it was. He’d shown restraint, he could continue. He slipped his hands beneath the shirt and rested them on her hips for a moment before he bent down, pulling her pants down her still incredibly shapely legs and then rose back to his full height and offered a hand to help her step out of them. 

He let go of her hand, having to take a moment where there wasn’t any physical contact between them to take a deep breath. He looked at her face then and was rewarded with another raised eyebrow and a smirk. “You okay there?” she questioned, before starting to laugh, and of course cough, again. 

“You’re a tease,” Harrison growled, though he was smiling now as well. “And incredibly sexy standing there in my shirt,” he admitted, letting his eyes drift along her body for a few seconds before returning his gaze to her face to find her big brown eyes staring back at him. She’d stopped laughing now and wasn’t smiling anymore. 

“Harrison, I…” she started, and he couldn’t help but reach out to take her hand again. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not as pretty as I was when we were younger. I’m sorry I’m not… that I don’t look good enough for you,” Carrie continued, but Harrison quickly silenced her with a finger to her lips. 

“Don’t you ever say that to me again,” he whispered fiercely, not with anger, but with determination. _Damn media_ , he cursed. They were always on her case about her looks. If he could talk to every reporter that ever wrote a negative word about her… She always took it with class, laughed it off, or called them out, telling the media in no uncertain terms to fuck off. But he knew it bothered her deep down and she was showing him that now. “You are beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. The most breathtaking woman I’ve ever met.” He punctuated these sentences with kisses up her jawline, finally whispering into her ear, before he gave her a kiss that expressed just how sincere his words were. 

Pulling his lips away from hers, he bent down slightly to press his face into her neck, his hands moving over the soft material of his - no her - shirt, skimming her sides, sneaking in to brush the underside of her breasts, and coming to rest on her hips. He lightly kissed her neck and murmured lowly, “God, Carrie, you don’t know what you do to me.” He heard her moan and he pulled back to look at her, seeing her eyes had fallen shut at some point. He removed a hand from her hip and placed it on her cheek. “Look at me,” he requested. Her eyes opened and he was lost in them for a moment. “You will always be beautiful to me. I will always want you,” Harrison insisted, pressing his hips to hers for a second to prove just how much he wanted her now. A few tears leaked onto her cheeks and he brushed them away with his thumb. “I love you, Carrie Frances Fisher. Always.”

She was shaking in his arms then and he realized how long she’d been standing. He cleared his throat and gave a shaky laugh. “You’re trembling,” he whispered, remembering saying those words so long ago, how the kiss that had come after had been them, more so than their characters. 

Carrie sniffled and pulled back from him a bit, raising her chin, and he had to laugh at how like her character she really could be sometimes. “So what if I am?” she challenged. “You tell me how I’m supposed to react after that little speech. God, Harrison, if I didn’t have pneumonia...”

He laughed again and took her hand, pulling her towards the bed. “Come on, Dear, bedtime.” Harrison helped her into bed and settled her on her back, pulling the covers up around her. He moved away, stopping when her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He turned and looked at her, seeing the expression of fear on her face. “I’m just going to the bathroom, Sweetheart, I’ll be right back,” he said softly. Her grip loosened and she dropped her hand, nodding at him.

He went to the bathroom and washed his hands, coming back out to her bedroom as quickly as possible. He went to her drawers and opened one, finding a pair of pajama pants he kept stashed there, and pulled them out. Harrison stood at the foot of her bed and removed the jeans and shirt he’d been wearing since yesterday and pulled on the pajama pants, offering her a small smile as she watched him. “You know, a shower in the morning might be a good idea,” he said with a small laugh and grinned when she gave him a small smile in return. 

He put his clothes on the chair in her room and then crawled into bed next to her. “Hold me,” she whispered, and he scooted closer.

“Always,” he whispered back. He slowly lifted her back up from the mattress and tilted her onto her side, his body instantly moving to spoon her from behind. He draped his arm around her, letting his hand rest on her stomach, as he wrapped his body firmly around her smaller one. “You fit so perfectly in my arms,” he breathed. He felt her snuggle closer to him and he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep, Darling, I’ll be right here. I love you,” he soothed. 

“I love you, too,” he heard her whisper back, and he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as a feeling of contentment finally settled over him. His hand rubbed at her stomach gently as he tried to relax her. He could feel how tense she was against his chest. After a while, he could feel some of the tension leave her body and he squeezed her gently. His own breathing was evening out and he held her close as he drifted off to sleep. 

The next thing he was aware of was Carrie shifting in his arms. He opened his eyes and gazed blearily at her for a second, regaining his senses. He realized she had rolled onto her other side and was now facing him. “Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she whispered back. He could hear the tiredness in her voice and as he became more aware, he felt the tension that was still in her body. He frowned, rubbing his hand over her back. “I can’t sleep,” she admitted, and he detected a hint of sheepishness in her tone. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. He watched her eyes close and he continued stroking her cheek gently with his thumb. He silently cursed the universe for piling pneumonia, a bipolar episode, and a pulled muscle on her all at once. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard. Just try to relax. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. You need sleep, Baby. You’ll fall asleep eventually.” He knew that was true. She was exhausted. It was just a matter of time until her body actually turned off the insomnia caused by her episode earlier, as well as from all the stress she was under, and let her sleep. 

Carrie nodded and snuggled further into his chest and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head again, closing his eyes. He was almost asleep again when he felt her hand on his arm, rubbing up and down with a featherlight touch of her fingers. He smiled, keeping his eyes closed, relishing in her touch and figuring that if touching him calmed her, maybe she’d be able to sleep. She pressed her body firmly against his and his smile grew, the feeling of having her so close never getting old. “Sleep, Carrie,” he whispered. 

He heard her sigh. “I can’t, Harrison,” she said, always stubborn.

“Mmm, you can,” he said, beginning to rub her back again. “Jew made me love you,” he began, softly whisper singing to her, trying to soothe her to sleep, using their inside joke from almost forty years ago. “I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do it. Jew made me want you. And all the time you knew it. I guess you always knew it.”

“Harrison.” Her whisper stopped him. 

“I’m sorry. I know my voice pales in comparison to yours,” he said softly. “I just thought it might soothe you, but-” She cut him off. With her lips. He hadn’t seen that coming. Literally. He pulled back and opened his eyes, gasping as he found her gaze focused on him, her eyes impossibly dark in the low light of the room. 

“Harrison,” she said again, her voice low, and he recognized then the lust hidden in the darkness of her eyes. “Make love to me.” Carrie pressed her hips to his and he groaned, closing his eyes again. “Carrie,” he hedged delicately. “You’re sick. Your back,” he protested, opening his eyes as he felt her grabbing his arm, lifting it and sliding her hand to his. She guided it to her breast and pressed his hand against her. 

“Make love to me,” she whispered, her gaze unwavering. “Make me feel good. Make me relax.”

Harrison sighed, his heart aching to do as she asked. His body ached as well, her request and the look in her eyes, the way she pressed herself against him and made him touch her, was clearly affecting him and he knew she could feel his desire pressing against her. 

“Carrie,” he tried again. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you,” he said, his voice choked. 

“Make love to me, Harrison. Slowly and tenderly,” she breathed, kissing his jaw, and he knew his resolve was quickly fading. 

“Carrie, you have to promise me if I’m hurting you that you’ll tell me to stop,” he said, looking into her eyes and moving his hand from her breast to cup her cheek. “Promise me,” he said firmly.

Carrie nodded. “I promise,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to come to terms with this. To make himself believe he was doing the right thing. There was no question that he wanted to make love to her, but he was afraid he would hurt her, and he couldn’t live with himself if he did that. He opened his eyes and looked at her for a few seconds before he sat up, pulling her up with him. She only winced once, but it still tore at his heart.

“Carrie,” he said warningly, wondering still if he was making a poor decision. 

“Harrison. I’m fine. The pain medicine helped and it’s much better than it was before. Make love to me,” she insisted. 

He swallowed thickly and brought his hands to the hem of her shirt. He slowly pulled it up and off of her, a tiny portion of his fears relieved when she didn’t whimper in pain at the movement. Harrison dropped the clothing to the floor and lowered her back to the mattress. He ran his hands over her stomach, along the edge of her underwear. He hooked his fingers in them with one hand and used his other arm to lift her hips just long enough for him to pull her panties from her. He pulled them down her legs and discarded them with her shirt. He sat there, staring down at her, raking his eyes over her form. She turned her head sideways and he could tell she was uncomfortable. He placed his fingers under her chin and turned her face gently back to him. “You are beautiful,” he breathed, retelling her again, then leaning down to press his lips to hers. 

She returned his kiss, sighing against his lips, and he deepened it, running his tongue along her lips before he touched it to hers. He ran his hand over her skin, everywhere he could reach. When he pulled back to look at her again, he saw her skin was already flushing from his touch and he smiled. Bending over, his lips took the same path his hand had, kissing every inch of skin he could. 

“Harrison,” she breathed, and he smiled against her, his lips continuing as he kissed lower, down her legs and back up, pressing a kiss to her curls that made her gasp. He pulled his head back up and looked into her eyes. 

“I love you, Carrie,” he whispered, overwhelmed with his emotion. 

“I love you, Harrison,” she replied, her voice breathy from her illness and her desire. “I need you,” she said, bringing a hand up to tug at the waistband of his pajama pants. He nodded at her and pulled his pajama pants and boxers down and off his legs, dropping them to the pile of her clothing. He sat there for a moment, just staring at her, his mind screaming at him in two different contradictory senses. 

“Carrie,” he started. “I really don’t know if-”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she said, sitting up and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling his lips to hers as she kissed him hard. She leaned back, pulling him with her, until her back was flat on the bed again and he was bent over her. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him there as their mouths moved together. Her voice was firm when they broke apart. “Make love to me, Harrison. Now. Please.” 

Against his better judgement, Harrison moved to stretch himself out above her. He bent his head down, pressing a quick peck to her lips before he kissed her jawline and down her neck, leaving wet kisses as he kissed out across her shoulder. He lifted his head and moved his lips to her other shoulder, repeating the process backwards, ending at her mouth where he kissed her slowly and deeply. The hand that wasn’t supporting his weight snuck down between them and he ran his finger between her folds, checking to see if she was ready for him. Carrie moaned into his mouth at the touch and he smiled against her lips. 

“Harrison. Please,” she whispered as their lips parted. He kissed down her throat and to her clavicle, his lips blazing a path to her chest. He pressed soft kisses to a breast before he teasingly pressed his tongue to her nipple. “Oh,” she gasped, her back arching off the mattress slightly and Harrison winced as he worried about her pulled muscle. He started to lift his head away from her, but she stopped him, her hand quickly on the back of his head, holding him there. “Don’t you dare stop,” she said, her voice low, and he closed his eyes for a moment, coming to terms with the fact that he was inevitably going to cause her some discomfort. But he wouldn’t deny her. He never could. He brought his lips back to her skin and took her breast in his mouth, sucking gently. Carrie moaned again and he could feel more wetness on his finger as he ran it against her again. Her body was ready for him, but still he hesitated. 

He decided to try a different tactic first. He slipped his finger inside her and had to tell his brain to shut up as her back lifted off the bed again, pushing her breast more firmly into his mouth. He moved his lips to her other breast to give it the same treatment as he stroked her with his finger. Her hips bucked against him and despite himself he couldn’t help but smile around her breast at her eagerness. He was surprised when he felt her grab his wrist and pull his finger from her. Instantly he raised his head, worry in his eyes as he gazed at her, remembering she’d promised to tell him to stop if he hurt her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’ll stop, sweetheart, I-”

“Shut up, Harrison,” she said, a smirk on her face. “I want _you_. Make love to me.” Harrison shook his head, adjusting himself over her and placing himself at her entrance. Carrie was still talking. “You know, I’ve never had to ask you this many times. Usually you’re all about making love to m-ohhhhh…” She moaned as he pushed himself into her and he groaned along with her as he felt her warm and slick walls envelop him. 

He rested his forehead on her shoulder, needing a moment. Every time they joined he was overwhelmed with emotion. It was like coming home. She was his home. He was brought out of his thoughts as Carrie lifted her hips to his, causing him to sink deeper within her. “Please,” he heard her whisper. Harrison brought his head back up to look down at her and his heart constricted just like it did every time he saw her like this. 

His free hand cupped her cheek for a moment. “You’re so beautiful, Carrie. I love you,” he whispered, getting lost in her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she whispered back. “Now move,” she requested with a smirk and another push of her hips. 

“So bossy,” he teased as he began moving against her slowly. Carrie’s eyelids fluttered and fell closed and he smiled as he leaned down to press his lips to hers. He continued his slow pace as he let his hand travel down, caressing her neck, moving lower to brush against her breast. He ran his thumb lightly over her nipple and she gasped into his mouth. He continued toying with her peaked bud as he thrust into her slowly and deeply. He moved his hand to her other breast, bringing that nipple to attention as he continued kissing her, his tongue moving against hers. He could feel her chest rising more rapidly against his hand now and he realized his own breathing was becoming more shallow as his pleasure began to take over. 

Worried about her breathing while sick, he reluctantly tore his lips from hers, wanting her to be able to breathe as easily as possible. He kissed across her jawline again and settled his lips against her neck, sucking gently as he let his hand roam from her breast, down across her stomach and between them to her bundle of nerves. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last and he wanted to make sure she was with him, that he was making her feel good and relaxed as she’d asked him to do. He pressed on her clit with his thumb and her back arched off the bed again as she cried out. “Please,” she whimpered. “Oh, Harrison,” she panted, her breathing quickly becoming unsteady as he increased her pleasure. Her hands were on his back, her fingernails digging into his skin. 

He continued the movement of his hips and fingers and kissed his way up her neck to her earlobe, nipping it gently. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear and she moaned, lifting her hips to meet his thrust. His breath came in pants at her ear and he heard her gasping breaths as she struggled to breathe. He could feel himself on the edge of his own release and was grateful as he was was worried about her breathing, knowing he needed to end this soon for her health. He increased the pressure of his fingers on her clit as he pulled his head back up to watch her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her gasping breaths came through parted lips, her head pressed back into the pillow and eyes closed. 

“Carrie,” he breathed. “Look at me,” he requested softly. It took her a few seconds, but finally her brown eyed gaze met his hazel one through half-closed lids. He kept her gaze for a minute, continuing the actions of his hips and fingers. He could feel her, impossibly tight around him, her walls beginning to pulse and he knew she was close. When he could tell she was about to close her eyes again, he spoke. “Hey,” he said, keeping her attention for a moment. “I love you,” he said, strong and firm as he squeezed her clit gently and thrust into her again. His words sent her over the edge and she cried out his name as she squeezed around him. Harrison’s own release came at the same time as hers and his hand moved from between them to grab her hip as they rode out their orgasms together. 

His breathing slowed, but hers stayed fast as she struggled to breathe. This is what he’d been afraid of. Her breathing was reminiscent of earlier and he knew they were going to have to repeat the exercise all over again. He rolled onto his side, pulling out of her and sitting up. He moved back against the headboard again and lifted her to a seated position between his legs. Harrison made sure he was sitting up straight and she was firmly pressed to his chest. He put her hands on his thighs and rubbed her arms soothingly. “Alright, well, now that we’ve had sex, time to pretend you’re giving birth again,” he joked lightly, wanting to keep her calm. He knew she was mentally okay this time, he just needed to get her to calm her breathing. “Squeeze when it hurts,” he reminded her. “One, two, three,” he counted, inhaling. Carrie attempted to do the same, but her fingers instantly squeezed hard against his thighs as she struggled to even inhale for a singular count. 

Harrison winced at the intensity of her grip. He tried counting again, but she still couldn’t make it past one. She whimpered and lay her head back against his shoulder. “Hey, you’re gonna get through this. I promise,” he said, trying to keep her - and himself - calm. He wondered if he should just call an ambulance, not knowing if he could get her to breathe on her own, the consequences of being found together be damned. He needed her to be okay, to breathe. “Just keep trying,” he soothed, counting a few more times. Eventually she inhaled for two counts. “That’s it, sweetheart, you can do it,” he said. Mentally he was cursing himself for being the cause of this. Every squeeze to his thighs he took in stride, wishing the pain was greater for having caused this. He kept counting, thanking some greater power when she was able to inhale for all three counts. 

“Alright, halfway there. You can do this, Carrie,” he encouraged. “Keep squeezing.” He counted the first three counts, then the last three. She made it through one exhale count before she gasped again. “It’s alright, it’ll be okay,” he reassured her. He kept counting, breathing with her, rubbing her arms to soothe her. He pressed a kiss to her temple when she managed to exhale for four and five. She was almost there and her breathing was sounding infinitely better than it had when they’d started. Now that she was starting to breathe on her own, he decided he wouldn’t have to call an ambulance. “Almost there, baby,” he promised. He went through the cycle a few more times and she got closer to holding out for the entire six counts. “One, two, three, four, five, six,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief when she managed to complete the cycle. “A few more times,” he stressed, counting and breathing with her as her breathing finally calmed. 

“Fuck,” he said, resting his head against her shoulder then. He felt her rub his thighs gently. 

“Harrison,” she whispered. “I’m okay now. I can breathe. I’m alright.” 

He nodded against her shoulder, but couldn’t speak. He felt sick to his stomach at what had just happened, at the fact that he’d gotten her so out of breath that it took even longer for her to regain control than it had earlier that day. 

“I’m okay, Harrison,” he heard her say again and he was placated for the moment by the firmness of her voice. He took a deep breath. 

“You’re okay. You’re alright,” he said softly against her skin, convincing himself. He felt her lips on his cheek as she turned her head and pressed a soft kiss there. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “That was amazing.”

Harrison choked out a laugh. “Right. You almost passing out because you couldn’t breathe is so amazing. It really is the way I love for sex to go between us, so satisfying”

“Harrison,” she sighed. “You made me feel amazing. You always do, every time you make love to me. Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I didn’t feel amazing.”

“Carrie,” he started, but she shook her head. 

“No. I asked you to do it, you did it, and I’m so glad you did. Now, let’s go to sleep. I am definitely feeling a million times more relaxed thanks to you.” She moved out from between his legs and tugged him down to the mattress. “Hold me,” she requested, wrapping his arm around her and pressing her back to his chest. “I love you, Harrison,” she said, her eyes already falling closed. 

“I love you, Carrie,” he whispered back, sighing and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “Sleep well,” he told her softly. Her breathing evened out quickly, but sleep eluded Harrison now, his earlier exhaustion forgotten as his mind replayed the scene of her gasping for breath again and again. He lay there for about twenty minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to be sick. He let go of her and scrambled from the bed, rushing to her bathroom where he emptied the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet. 

Harrison squeezed his eyes shut tightly, tears leaking from the corners. How could he have done this? How could he have hurt her like this? There was nothing left in his stomach, but he dry heaved over the toilet again, his hands gripping the sides of it so hard his knuckles were white. 

“Harrison?” he heard her say meekly from the open doorway and his shoulders slumped. He hadn’t meant to wake her. She needed her sleep. He wiped his hand over his mouth and stood, flushing the toilet. He went to the sink and washed his hands and grabbed the spare toothbrush he kept there, quickly brushing his teeth. He turned around and she was still standing there watching him, her eyes wide. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said softly. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her back out to the bed, helping her in. He walked around and got back in himself, pulling the covers up over their naked bodies as he spooned against her back. It was silent for a few minutes, but he knew she hadn’t fallen asleep. 

“Harrison?” she finally questioned again, her voice quiet. 

“How could you?” he said. “How could you ask me to do that? I hurt you,” he choked. 

“Harrison, you didn’t _hurt_ me,” Carrie insisted. “I have pneumonia. Breathing is an issue.” 

“You were breathing just fine before you begged me to make love to you!” he said loudly, more harshly than he’d intended. “Damn it. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to yell, but Carrie, you begged me to do it when I knew you were too sick and I had to be the cause of you coming close to death _again_. You can’t expect me to just be okay with that!” 

“Harrison, I’m okay. You helped me through it, honey. I’m breathing fine again,” she said softly, attempting to soothe him. 

“Carrie, you weren’t fine. You couldn’t breathe because of me,” he argued. 

“I couldn’t breathe because I have pneumonia,” she retorted. “You did not give me pneumonia, Harrison. And you have been taking care of me ever since you found out I was sick. You are helping me so much. You are loving me so much.”

“I can’t bear to watch you in pain. To watch you almost die multiple times over our years together ,” he said, his voice broken. “It kills me, Carrie. Every time. And to almost cause it now-,” he said, unable to finish. 

“Harrison, you did not cause my pneumonia. We’re done with this. I’m fine. I can breathe. You’re not going to lose me right now,” she said. She turned in his arms, facing him. She put her palm to his cheek, looking into his eyes. “I’m right here, Harrison,” she whispered. “I’m right here and I feel so loved. You are taking such good care of me. You haven’t left me. You’ve been showing me your love over and over, honey. Please don’t be upset with yourself, or me.” 

“I love you, Carrie. I can’t lose you,” he whispered, closing his eyes. 

“I know, Harrison. I know,” she said, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I do know how you feel, remember? When that door fell… and your plane crash…” She had to pause for a moment, taking a deep breath that made her chest ache again. “I was so scared, Harrison,” she whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you and I couldn’t bear it,” she admitted. “So I understand, but…” Carrie paused for a moment, steeling herself to speak. “Someday one of us is going to lose the other,” she reminded him. “There’s nothing we can do about it, even though I wish there was. But here’s the thing.” She dropped her hand to grab his, lacing their fingers together. “In sickness and in health, Harrison, until death do us part,” she said firmly. “Yeah?”

Harrison was crying again and he cursed himself for it, but the sentiment did nothing to stem the tears. He went to speak, but no words came out. Instead he settled on nodding for the moment, squeezing her hand that was intertwined with his. He knew she was right, but he hated thinking about it. He especially hated thinking about how he was the older one, how the chances were fairly strong that he would go before she did. The thought of leaving her alone tore him up almost as much as the thought of losing her did. When he looked at her, Carrie was looking at him with so much love in her gaze and then she leaned forward, kissing the tears that had run down his cheeks. More tears only fell at her tenderness. He took a shaky breath. “In sickness and health, until death do us part,” he repeated. “I love you, Carrie,” he whispered. 

“I know,” she smiled, snuggling against his chest. “I love you, too, Harrison,” she murmured against his skin. “Now go to sleep, you nerfherder,” she said, smiling. 

Harrison sniffled, a small smile appearing on his face. “Yes, dear,” he whispered back, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight, my princess.” Their exhaustion won out quickly and they both fell asleep, holding each other tightly as they slept through the night.


End file.
